Terra Novus
by pacatrack
Summary: After a young man wakes up on a small beach alongside a vast forest, he must learn to survive from natural resources and has no memory from before his awakening. His new life brings him close to death and nearly constant danger as he explores the region, suffers tragedies, and discovers shocking knowledge of his past. - Deviantart page - goo .gl/STcV45 (remove space before the ".")


Day 1

_With the addition of fear, the anxiety felt in any situation is amplified... especially in the dark._

The chirps of thousands of insects fill the air, accompanied by the occasional wails, moans, and grotesque screeches of some unseen creatures.

I sit, shivering, half inside of and old, hollowed out oak tree. I woke up in this surreal land only hours ago.

I woke up at the edge of a gravel beach with the water licking at my feet and the sun beating down. My whole body ached… my arms, my legs… _everything_. In pain, I stood up and was surprised by the beauty of the scene. Small patches of Forget-me-nots dot the edge of a lustrous green forest. Birds were singing in the distance. Even though I had only just awoken, I was already exhausted. I crawled to the base of a small tree and leaned against it. Soon after, a small boar appeared at my side. After playing with him for a short while and naming him, Roger waddled back into the bushes from where he came. With my mind unoccupied, I soon dozed off. I woke, surrounded by the screeches and moans. I was terrified, and I still am.

Another blood-curdling screech fills the air, but this one is close by. I peer around the tree but this time I see a figure standing motionless.

"Hey!" I yell, "I'm over here!"

The figure spins around and lazily begins to walk towards me. Shrouded in shadows, its facial features are hidden. All I am able to see is that its arms swing wildly with each step and its body sways without rhythm.

I start to walk towards it. "Who are you?" I yell, assuming that the he too has just appeared in this place.

We are about 15 feet apart when he walks into the moonlight. I stop in my tracks and gasp. His clothing is in tatters and covered with blood. His skin is rotted, and he is missing an eye and a left hand. A bone is protruding from is right arm and his jaw hangs lazily.

I immediately vomit and become dizzy, feeling like I will soon lose consciousness. Luckily I don't. I grab onto a tree to steady myself.

"Oh my god!" I think to myself, "A zombie?"

We are now about 5 feet apart, and I am frozen to the ground... 4 feet... 3 feet. I regain my senses and stumble backward, almost falling over a root that had broken the ground. I break into a sprint, only trying to get away – to get as much distance between me and _it_ as possible. I run around a large rock formation jutting out of the ground, but another zombie intercepts me. It grabs me at the shoulders and pushes me to the ground, almost lazily. All of its movements are very slow and greatly exaggerated. It reaches for my neck, but I hold it back from biting me. It seems eager for a fresh meal – for living flesh. It bites at the air near my neck and grunts and snarls at me as thick, red blood drip from its mouth. Its face is the worst part. A large portion has already rotted away, but what remains hangs on. Flaps of discolored skin hang only inches from my face and mouth. Its left eye is missing, leaving an empty socket, filled with maggots feeding on its flesh. I muster the strength to push it off of me and roll over. Dazed, I pull myself to my feet and continue running.

After another few minutes of running, I come across a cave that is about 20 feet deep. Exhausted from the running, I take shelter there for the night. I am so tired. I can barely move a muscle. I fall asleep instantly.

Day 2

I awake with nearly no pain, with the exception of my legs being sore from all of the running. I shiver as I remember my encounters with the zombies

I slowly stand up and realize how scared I am to go outside. I grab a large stick and reluctantly walk towards the entrance of the cave. I look around and see the coast is clear. I slowly walk out, being careful not to stray too far from the cave.

My body becomes stiff as I hear another blood curdling noise. This one is new, however. It sounds like a small child being tortured. About 60 feet away, I see three or four zombies quickly moving out of the sunlight, screeching and yelping.

I laugh to myself. "Looks like they don't care for the sun too much."

I wait for another half of an hour to make sure that the zombies will be gone. With all of them hopefully gone, I set out to look for food. After only 10 minutes of searching I realize something. I don't know my name! What is my name? How can I not know this? If I cannot remember my own name, is there anything else that I do not know? I sit down and think, trying to remember anything. But the one thing that I can't stop thinking about, is my name. All I can remember is that is starts with an A. Is it Andy? Aaron? Alex? I suppose that doesn't matter now... I need food terribly.

I stand up and start to search again. After a little while of searching, I've found four mushrooms and a shirt full of what looks like raspberries and best of all, I found Roger! I found him walking around some bushes. When he sees me, he quickly waddles over. After a moment of thinking, I realize a frustrating truth: I remember what a raspberry is called but I cannot remember my own name. I angrily walk back to the cave with Roger to sit for a while.

As I sit in my cave eating, I think about what I have to do next. Next on my list is to build an actual shelter. A _real_ shelter. Like a house, not just fixing up the cave. I finish eating and walk over to a nearby spring to wash my hands. As I finished washing up, I promptly started to gather wood so I could make a fire to ward off the monsters at night. Once I have a large handful of wood, I make my way back to the cave.

It is now about 4pm, or so I think. I have to guess time based on the sun's position. I've had a very exhausting first full day, so I decide to go relax by the ocean's edge. The ocean is about a couple hundred feet away from the cave, and it has a beautiful view. I sit at the water's edge and almost forget where I am. Right now, the place looks like paradise. Not like a world occupied by monsters. I've been sitting by the water for hours. It's getting dark so I decide to head back to the cave and start up a fire before the monsters arrive. As I am walking back, my foot catches on a root. When I stand up, I realize what I had tripped over was not a root. There, lying on the ground is an ancient looking iron sword and axe. They are both encrusted with dirt, emphasizing their age.

"Maybe there are other people here," I say under my breath while I look at the tools in amazement. I scoop up the tools and scuttle back to the cave to avoid any monsters.

I grab three logs on the way back to extend the life of tonight's fire. I get back to the cave just as the sun is slipping beneath the horizon. I quickly start to rub two pieces of wood together.

"Wow. This is a lot harder than I thought," I said in a frustrated tone.

After rubbing wood together for a while, they start to smolder and one gets a small flame on it. I quickly put it into a bed of dried grass which immediately bursts into flames. I then pile on some small sticks, then some a little larger, and a little more, and then a few larger logs. I make sure to not have an enormous fire, but instead a small fire so the wood would last through the night. Hopefully, the zombies will avoid the fire just as they did to the sunlight. After the fire is set, I lay down in the back of the cave with the fire covering the entrance.

Day 4

I awake with a passion to get wood to build a small log cabin. I grab my axe and sword and walk outside. It's a beautiful morning and there's a bit of sunlight peeking over the horizon. It is warm, there are deer grazing 300 or so feet away, there are birds singing in the trees… it is amazing.

_GGRAAAGGH_

The sound makes me nearly jump out of my shoes. There's a zombie about 20 feet away, and he's getting closer.

_UUUURRRRGGGGHHH_

I gulp and get a good grip on my new sword I run toward the zombie and take a swing. The blade tears through the rotten flesh with great ease.

Its right arm falls to the ground and it stumbles backward then looks at me with confusion as it to say, "What was that for?"

He starts toward me again and I take another swing at him. This time I catch him in the neck. Blood oozes from the gash. He stands there motionless for a few seconds, and I hold my breath. He pitches forward and lies still on the grass. I stand there in shock for a few minutes. Slowly, I regain my composure. I now know that the zombies are still outside as the sun rises. They only fully disappear when the sun is up.

I slowly make my way back to the area near my cave.

"Hmmm… which trees should I cut first?" I say, thinking aloud.

I decide to clear all of the trees from my cave to the ocean, and have the cleared area about 30 feet across. It'll take me a couple days, but I'll do it. I grab my axe and get to work on the first tree.

Chop_ChopChopChopChopChop_

As I chop, my name hits me. "Adam!" I yell out. It had always been on the tip of my tongue.

As I think about my name, I continue to chop. I find that it is easier to chop to a memorable tune that I made up.

_Chop… Chop Chop… Chop Chop Chop… Chop… Chop_

Before I know it, the first tree is down. I hope to make a simple log cabin. It'll hopefully be about 15 by 20 feet, and maybe 8 feet tall. So, I get to work on cutting the fallen tree to length.

Chop… Chop Chop… Chop Chop Chop… Chop… Chop

Roger watches me curiously from the shade.

_Chop… Chop Chop… Chop Chop Chop… Chop… Chop_

I finish cutting the tree to length. It took about four hours to cut it down and to size, but time flew. I start a pile of logs where the tree stood. Now I get to work on the second tree. This one takes about five hours to cut down and to length.

My stomach scolds me, releasing a furious grown and I realize that I hadn't eaten in nearly a day. I set down my axe and grab my sword, in case I run into any trouble. I set out on a journey.

It's now nearing the end of the day, and it's getting dark. I've been looking for food for about an hour and I've had no luck whatsoever. I finally stumble into a small apple tree. I quickly grab all the apples that I can and start running back home.

It took me about half of an hour to get back to my cave. I pick up various rocks and begin hitting them together, quickly starting a fire, and sit down by it, but on the inside of the cave so the fire is between me and the outside. As I was running back, I saw a few zombies lurking in the shadows.

I spill my apples onto the ground to count them. I have… 1… 4… 8… 11! 11 apples! That should last me a while. I quickly devour three of them, and save the others for tomorrow.

_GGGRRAAAGGGHHH_

"Oh crap," I say under my breath.

I grab my sword and cram myself into the back corner of the cave. I'm in the shadows, so hopefully the zombie won't see me. I see him slowly walk by the cave and peer in.

_GGGRRAAAGGGHHH_

I hold my breath for what seems like an eternity and he finally goes away. I gasp in air and crawl over to the fire to tend to it.

_GGGRRAAAGGGHHH!_

I look up just in time to see a zombie hurling toward me. He jumps through the fire and lands on me. He's pinning me to the ground by my shoulders. He smells putrid. Clumps of rotten flesh cling onto his face. Its spit spatters onto my face. He pulls his head down to try to bite me, but I grab it by the neck. Choking it isn't an option, for it needs no air. After about a minute of being pinned to the ground, I begin to feel tired. My arms may give out at any second. That's when I remember my sword. I look over to my right and see it, just out of arm's length. With my remaining strength, I throw the zombie off me, and dive for the sword. Just as I grab it, the zombie grabs onto my ankle. He starts to pull me toward him. He grabs onto my foot and holds on to it as if he is about to break my ankle to immobilize me. That's when I make my move. I quickly pull my leg out of its grip and take a full swing at its neck. This time, the blow is hard enough to decapitate it. If I hadn't moved my foot, I wouldn't have it anymore.

I crawl into the corner of the cave and start sobbing. I sit in the corner for the better part of an hour. I finally get up and walk over to the body. I can't leave this in here, I'll get sick. I reluctantly pick it up and toss it outside, all while trying not to throw up. I head back to the corner of the cave and drift into sleep.

Day 20

I've finally finished my cabin, and frankly, I'm very proud of it. It is only held together by the notches cut into the tree trunks themselves, which make up the walls. The ground level is all one room. There is a furnace that I made out of rocks that I've found lying around. It also has 3 large wooden chests, a bed that I've made with wood and wool. Sadly, I had to kill a sheep. I needed wool, but there was no way that I would have been able to get it without killing them. I also have a table, windows, and a tiny cellar. The cellar is just in case a zombie breaks into my house, I can hide down there. I hardly did any digging for it. There had already been a hole there, so I just shaped it and made it a bit deeper.

Over all, I am amazed at how quickly I built the house. It is almost as if I've done this before. I've also made a couple of stone shovels, axes, and swords. My iron axe broke yesterday, so I had to use a stone one to finish the job. Oh yes, I've also made torches! It is made from cloth from the zombies' clothing soaked in animal fat and put onto a stick. They'll burn for about two days, surprisingly.

It looks to be close to midnight, so I decide to go to bed. I put out the torches, set a sword by my bed, and lay down. I lay in bed for a while because I am so happy to have my house complete. I fall asleep after about an hour of lying there.

"No! Get away from me!"

Upon hearing the faint and mysterious voice, I sit up straight in bed, wondering if it was a dream or not.

"Back! Get away!"

I jump out of bed and put my shirt and shoes on. I grab my best two swords, a torch, and head outside into the direction of the yelling.

I pass many zombies as I run towards the voice.

"Hold on!" I yell, hoping the person can hear me.

As I continue running, I start to think of what or whom the noise could be coming from. For all I know. It could be a new monster that is trying to lure me into a trap. No, stop thinking like that. This has to be a real person. A monster couldn't make a noise that similar to a human's.

When I round a corner, I see the person – a woman. She is trying to fight off two zombies with a long piece of wood. I quickly dart around a few trees and run to her side. I hand her a sword and I stab one zombie in the chest with my extra. I pull the sword out and the zombie grunts. I quickly pull my sword around and slice its head in a single fluid movement. I look over and see that she is finishing off her zombie. She finishes him off by taking a slice at its stomach, nearly cutting it in two.

"Quickly," I say. "Follow me"

We both start to running back in the direction of my cabin. We pass a zombie holding a sword of its own, and it takes a swing at me. The swing was misjudged and I dodge it easily. I grab it from behind and cut its throat with my sword. The girl stares in awe as the zombie silently falls to the ground. I pick up its sword and we continue running and arrive at the cabin shortly. I open the door and allow her in. When she is in I hastily shut the door and look out of the window the see if any monsters followed us. There are none is sight.

I turn around and realize I have absolutely no idea of what to say to her.

"Are you hungry?" I finally ask.

"Yes," she quietly replies.

I go over to one of my chests and pull out two apples that I picked the day before. I hand them to her, and she takes them

"Thank you," she says, this time a little less shy.

"Sorry, I have only had fruit lately."

When she finishes the apples I ask her what her name is.

"It's… hmmm… I don't really remember," she replies. "How about you call me… Emily! I can't really remember anything."

"It was the same for me," I agree. "How long have you been here?"

"A little over a day," she says. "And you?"

I have to think before responding. "Almost 25 days."

"Here, you can sleep in my bed tonight. I'll sleep in the cellar," I say as I show her the bed.

"Thank you very much," she says gratefully. "Oh, and I didn't catch your name"

"It's Adam," I say as I head down to the cellar. "We'll have to talk in the morning. I'm exhausted. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Adam," she coos.

I walk into the back of the cramped cellar and lay down. It takes me a while to fall asleep because so many things are going through my mind. I can't help but think why we are here. Had we done something terrible, and been banished here? Have we lived a life before this? I eventually fall asleep. This time, however, I dream. This dream is very unusual. It is of the man who first owned the sword and axe that I found. I see him fighting in the same location that I found them, but it looks to be a long time ago by the clothing he wears. In the dream he is in a battle with 10 zombies. He easily cuts through 6 of them. He is a fierce warrior, but the last four zombies overpower him. They pin him to the ground and start to bite him. When they feel the job is done, they leave him lying there, bleeding to death in a pool of his own blood.

I wake up in a cold sweat and I'm breathing heavily. I sit up and stay there for a while thinking of the dream. I lie back down and try to fall back to sleep, but I keep tossing and turning. I finally fall asleep after what feels like an eternity.

Day 21

I wake up and slowly make my way upstairs. I see that Emily has already awoken and is sitting in bed.

"Good morning," I say. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," she says, getting up from bed.

"I need to get some food. Would you like to join me?" I ask.

She pretends to ponder her options for a moment before replying. "I'd love to," She says.

I grab a sword for myself and hand her one, but she hesitates before grasping it.

"What's this for?" She asks.

"Just in case there are any monsters left outside. They seem to only come out in the dark, but they may still be out," I explain.

She nods and we walk out the door. We head left, which is in the direction of the apple tree. We passed a herd of wild bulls and cows, covered in thick and matted brown hair. I occasionally stumble into them, but I never pay much attention. We continue walking and eventually get to the tree.

"Here it is! My lifeline!" I laugh.

We start to pick apples, but end up with hardly enough to feed ourselves. We only get three apples. We walk away disgruntled with our find. On the way back, I spot a wild turkey. He's a tom, and he's very large. I tell Emily to stay there and I sneak up on it. I jump between the cover of the trees, edging closer and closer to it.

3… 2… 1…

Jump.

I pounce onto the tom and pin it to the ground with my whole weight. He struggles and tries to get free desperately, but I quickly break its neck. I walk back to Emily holding my trophy and smiling. She stands mouth agape.

"That's huge!" She remarks, trying to hold back repulsion.

"I know," I respond. "He'll feed us for a while.

We continue walking. As we are walking, for the first time, I actually notice how she looks. The wind blows her hazel-brown hair into her eyes − her brown eyes. She possesses the beauty of a goddess; she is perfect.

"I cannot stop wondering why we are here. It always seems to be in the back of my mind," I say.

"Me too," she agrees. "How do you think we got here?"

"I've got no clue," I admit.

Before I know it, I realize that we're back at the cabin. We walk inside.

"I can clean the turkey, if you'd like," She volunteers.

"Sure!" I say, "But how do you know how to?"

She thinks for a moment. "I don't know… I just do. It feels like I've done it before."

Day 30

The turkey did feed us, but it was gone in about 3 or 4 days. Since then, we have been eating apples, mushrooms, and different types of berries. The berries are actually quite delicious. They're red, they have little tiny hair-like things coming off of them, and they have no seeds. They're very sweet and they also tend to stain your hands and clothing. I am thinking of dying a shirt for Emily with them, but that is not top priority right now. I have not known her for long, but I already like her a lot. It would be difficult to not like her.

The past couple of days have been rather bleak. We've just been trying to survive. No discoveries. No attacks. Nothing exciting has happened. Roger has seemed to have disappeared. I'm going to miss him. I am, however, starting to notice more about Emily. She is always happy and she isn't shy anymore. We're actually getting to be very close.

Day 38

"Adam! Look!" Emily anxiously says to me.

She is standing outside of the door as I work at a table inside trying to fasten together a couple of pickaxes and a large amount of torches. Today, we are going to try to explore a cave that we saw only a couple of days ago. It is far too deep and long for us to have explored it then. We didn't have any of the correct gear.

"Hurry!" she begs.

I get up from my table and walk over to her.

"What's wrong? I ask.

"Look," she says, pointing over to her right.

I look over and see a figure in the distance. It is maybe 500 feet or so away. It is about the time that zombies should be coming out, but this one is different. It has better posture, and it has white hair down to its shoulders. It notices us staring and quickly darts away. It definitely isn't a zombie. It moves far too fast and with too much ease.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I am not sure," I admit.

I open the door for her and follow in after her. We have 2 beds now. Mine is in the cellar, and hers is upstairs in the main room.

"Are you ready to head to the cave?" I ask, shrugging off the sighting of the person… zombie… or whatever it was. There are so many weird things here, nothing truly surprises me anymore.

"Yes, are you?" she asks not seeming to be bothered by the sighting.

"Yeah," I say, while getting the supplies.

We'll be bringing many things. We will bring four pickaxes, 30 or so torches, some wood for a small fire, two swords, and a couple pounds of goat meat. I recently made two backpack-like bags out of deer and goat skin which is how the tools will be carried. I also made two vests out of deer and goat skin. It's quite unusual. I get the feeling that I did that before. I did it too well for it to have been the first time.

Emily and I head out the door and walk in the direction of the cave. I am starting to like Emily. And I don't mean I like her a little bit… I like her. She's energetic, happy, and always looks on the bright side of things. And she looks stunning. She…

"Can you remember anything"? Emily says, interrupting my train of thought.

"Only my name," I say. "Can you?"

"No," she admits. "I can't even remember my name. I always have memories on the tip of my tongue, but I can never remember them. It gets very annoying. Like my name, I always feel like I'm about to remember it, but I never do."

"That sounds very frustrating," I say sympathetically.

"Yeah, it is," she says. "We're here"

To my surprise, the walk went quickly. I light a torch and we head in. It is very moist in the cave, unlike the small one that I spent a few nights in. This one is larger. _Much_ larger. I place a torch in a crack in the wall and light another as we head deeper into the cave, it grows much colder. Now I am glad I brought the vests for Emily and me.

"Burr!" Emily says. "It's getting cold!"

"Yeah," I laugh while pulling my vest tighter.

The cave's passageway has been going downhill for a long time; we have been walking for what feels like forever.

"Let's rest for a little while," I say as I sit down onto a rock.

"Thank you," she says smiling.

We have been placing torches in the wall every once and a while so we can find our way back. They should last for about two days so we should be safe.

"How many torches do we have left?" she asks, peering onto my bag.

"Eight left," I say as I sigh.

I stand up and look around. We are sitting in a small natural room. It's about 30 feet by 30 feet and it's about 20 feet tall. I place a few torches around the room and sit back down.

"Looks like this'll be our base while we are down here," I say as Emily walks around the room and examines it.

"What's this?" she asks.

I walk over to her and see a black material stuck in the cave's wall.

"Oh my gosh!" I blurt out.

"What's wrong?" she asks frantically.

"Nothing… nothing at all!" I say happily. "This is coal! It'll burn a lot longer than wood and we can make better torches from it."

"Awesome! Our first find!" she says.

I can't help but smile as I get the pickaxe. Coal! It's not much, but it's awesome! I start to hit the wall with the pickaxe and the coal starts to fall out in chunks!

"Here we go!" I say minutes later as I set a pile of coal onto the ground.

"We should probably set up a fire in case any zombies are in here", I say as I get some sticks and logs. "It may ward them off."

Just then, we hear the most terrifying noise emanating from further on in the cave. My hairs immediately stand up on end and a shiver shoots down my spine. The noise was like a roar, but it was a little different. It sounded blood thirsty.

"Adam!" Emily says before throwing me an unlit torch.

I catch it in my right hand and light it with the one currently placed on the wall. I hold it in front of me and cautiously creep over to the unexplored tunnel at the other end of the room. I am scared beyond belief, but I want to impress her.

I hear the noise again and almost drop the torch, but I continue on my way towards the tunnel. With a mighty heave, I throw my torch into the tunnel. There, crouched in the tunnel, are three zombies. They hiss and back farther into the tunnel and then they just stand there. These zombies look different. They seem to favor crawling on all four, and they are deathly pale. They even look contorted, almost like they grew to be able to move as they do. They twitch and jitter as the crouch. Just as the other zombies, they are rotting. The only color on their entire bodies is the deep red blood that has stained their faces and bare chests.

We stand looking at each other as I tightly clasp the sword in my hands. After what feels like an eternity, they turn around and scurry back into the cave.

"What were they?" Emily asks. "They were hideous!"

"I guess they are zombies," I explain. "But it looks like these favor living in the caves."

"I don't know if we should stay down here much longer, they don't seem to like us here much," she says. "Did you see their faces? They were covered in blood and they looked so evil."

"Yeah, I did. I guess you're right. We probably shouldn't stay much longer," I agreed, but primarily because she sounded scared. "We'll head up in a little while. We will have to leave the torches in place so they don't follow us. They seem to be scared of the fire."

She nods and I decide to look around the room a while more. The cave walls are a shadowy grey color−almost black. They are all moist and rough. In the far left corner, something catches my eye. I walk across toward the other side and examine it. It looks to be a mix of tan and silver colored rock embedded into the cave wall. I decide that I might as well take it with me, for it may have a use that I don't know of yet.

The material is stuck fast into the mall. My hands and arms are already aching from the constant swinging and hitting.

_Crunch_

To my amazement, a clump of it falls to the ground. I lay it to the side and go back to picking at the wall. After only a few seconds of picking, a much larger clump falls heavily to the ground with a thump. I can barely hold both of them at the same time, but I manage to carry them over to Emily.

"So that's what you've been working on. What is it?" she asks.

"I'm not sure, but it looks like it might be something of value to us," I say as I inspect the mineral… rock… or whatever it is.

We cook some goat meat on the fire so we have enough energy in case we run into any trouble on the way back up to the surface. The fire starts out small. It's slowly growing, engulfing the pile of wood. I stick a slab of meat into the fire. The pieces are thin so they'll cook evenly. The sound of popping and the heat emanating from the fire soothes me. For the first time in a while, I am completely relaxed… completely carefree. I just lay there by the warmth of the fire and relax. After a minute or so, Emily lies down with me and puts her head on my chest. I don't know what to do, but I decide that I should just continue lying like this.

I see that the meat looks done and I slowly sit up, allowing Emily time to move her head. I immediately miss the comfort of her head on my chest. I stand up and slowly make my way towards the fire. With a leftover stick, I pull the meat out of the fire and bring them back to where Emily sits.

"You think it looks done?" I ask.

"Yeah, it looks nice and juicy," she says, smiling back. She surely must see the happiness emanating from me.

I'm happy for an obvious reason: I think she likes me. We finish the meal, pack up our equipment and findings and head back the way we came. Our rucksacks are heavier from the coal and the other material that I found even though we aren't carrying the wood, food, and torches in them anymore.

We get to a large boulder, and begin to climb over it. "I keep having the feeling that I've learned some of the skills that we've been using before… like I have been taught them," I blurt as we get to the top of a boulder. I grab her hand and pull her up. "Like when I built my cabin. It seemed so easy… it went up in only days; it felt as if it built itself. And when I made the clothing and rucksacks; it was like I already knew how to make them. It's really weird."

"You're lucky," she says in a saddened tone. "I don't seem to have any special skills."

"Of course you do!" I exclaim. "You have a great eye for details and you can prepare an amazing meal with very few ingredients. And you're pretty."

It feels good to say that I think she's pretty.

"You really think I'm pretty?" she asks.

"Of course! You're beautiful!" I practically yell, surprised that she doesn't know that.

"Thank you," she says, smiling at the ground. "You're actually pretty cute."

"Thanks," I say, blushing.

Up ahead I can see light. Not light from one of our torches, but light from the surface.

"It feels good to be back in fresh air," I say as I shield my eyes from the falling sunlight. "Home is left, right?"

"Yea!" She says as she stretches. "And it's getting darker, so we should start on our way back."

We start on our way to the house and everything feels different. We have been becoming closer every day, and what happened in the cave sped it up a great deal. Everything seems so calm. Some deer are grazing to our left. I can hear the soft chirps of small birds all around. The weather itself is perfect. It's warm and not too humid. There isn't a cloud in sight. Right now, I am the happiest I have been since I arrived.

I realize that we are almost home when I see the familiar cave that I lived in when I first got here. We walk over to the door of the house and I open it for her, allowing her to go in first. I follow in after her, and my happiness immediately leaves, followed by a sense of paranoia. On my work table, there is a broken shovel, which I clearly remember having in a chest. And on the floor, there are some rocks that I found before, which were on my desk before we left. I quickly start running to see if whatever did this is still here. It's not upstairs… so it must be in the cellar. I quickly run down to check for anything. I franticly look around and see nothing at all. I slowly walk back upstairs.

"What's wrong?" she asks with a scared look on her face.

"Things are in different places than they were before we left to go into the cave," I murmur.

"Are you sure?" she asks as she rests her hand on mine.

I pause before replying. "Yes, I am. The shovel and rocks are out of place."

"Do you think it may have been one of the zombies?" She is starting to sound more worried than before.

"The place isn't destroyed, so it's improbable," I say as I try to keep the worry and fear out of my voice. "But there isn't anything else it could have been… so I guess it was a zombie."

"I think you're right," she says as she sits down on her bed going into a deep thought.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm exhausted," she says with a yawn.

"Me too," I agree. "Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, goodnight," she says as she lies down.

I slowly make my way to my bed. I drag my feet along the way and sit down with a thump when I get there. I yawn and get under the covers, falling asleep in seconds.

Day 47

Everything has been very bleak lately. Nothing of an interesting nature has happened at all. We have had no major run-ins with any zombies lately. When we leave the house, nothing seems to be searching it while we are gone. It has been a restful and relaxing couple of days.

So far I have found no use for the silver and tan colored material that I had found whilst we were in the cave. I have conducted various tests to determine what the mysterious material does, but none have been conclusive. I have tried using it to sharpen the axe, but it only dulled it. I have tried breaking it to see if it creates a sharp edge, but it only crumbles. There were numerous other tests that I also conducted.

"Adam?" Emily asks, breaking me from my train of thought.

I sit up in my bed. "Yes?" I ask.

"The sun is up and it looks like they have gone away," she says as she sits down at my side on the bed. "Have you been up very long?"

"Not too long, only about ten minutes," I yawn.

"Are you ready to go look for some food? We ate the last of the rabbit stew last night," she says as she stands up.

"Yep, and you're getting to be quite a good cook. The stew was delicious. The carrots, potatoes, and herbs really added to the flavor," I say as I, too, get up.

"Thank you," she says, blushing.

"Anyway… how did you make stew? What did you use as a container?"

"I used some dried out gourds that I found. They're rather large and the fire doesn't burn them for some reason," she explains. "Meet me outside in five minutes?"

"Yep!"

I walk over to my chest and slowly put on my shirt and pants. I head upstairs to the tool chest and grab my sword and a shovel. I am bringing the shovel just in case we happen to see any more wild potatoes. I make my way toward to door and see her out of the window. She is sitting in the grass and a butterfly sits on the tip of her index finger.

I wake from my daze and walk out to her.

"Are you ready?" I ask as she gets up.

"Yes. Can I carry the shovel?" She asks.

"Yep! Here you go," I say as I hand her the shovel.

We begin walking on our usual path when we search for food, towards the apple tree. I listen to the familiar sound of leaves crunching under my feet. I don't know why, but I find it to be rather soothing. And the sound of the birds… it too is soothing. There is never actual silence here. The birds never stop their beautiful singing and there is always the crunching of leaves from a nearby rabbit or squirrel. Without the constant noise, it wouldn't really feel right.

The wind is gently blowing through the trees, adding to the wonderful noise. The wind brings with it a coldness that is new to us. Before, it has been a comfortably warm temperature. But lately the warmth has been dwindling and it is being replaced with the cold.

"It's getting colder," I finally say.

"I know. We will have to start wearing some pelts," she agrees. "You have changed since I first arrived…more physically than mentally. You used to have dirty blond hair, but now your hair is darkening to a light brown. You've also grown. You were maybe five foot three inches, but you've grown another inch. You're also more muscular."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, of course!"

We continue walking along our usual pathway. The pathway is always shaded. There are streaks of light shining through the leaves and onto the foliage. The whole scene is… beautiful. The wondrous smells of the fallen leaves enhance the overall beauty of this bittersweet land… this land of monsters. I cannot stop marveling at the splendor of the wildlife here.

We continue walking and I once again notice Emily's beauty. She walks to my right silently with her brown hair lightly blowing in her face with the breeze. She brushes the hair out of her brilliant, brown eyes – eyes that show courage and strength, as if she has been through a lot… as if she has been places and see things which would send any person past their breaking point.

The rustling of leaves break my chain of thought. I stop dead in my tracks and Emily follows. I look over to see a large wild boar about 30 or so feet away.

I put my index finger up to lips so signal her to be silent. I slowly sneak my way up to the boar as I try desperately not to step on any leaves. I get behind the boar who still hasn't noticed me. I unsheathe my sword and feel a pang of sadness. He reminds me of Roger. I have taken the lives of many other animals before, but none of them had brought this feeling. This boar, however, is a lot uglier. He has two gnarly tusks and a scarred face. I must kill him, though. Otherwise we will starve. He stops digging around in the soil and raises his head. This is when I make my choice. I raise the sword and send it flying down with all of my strength to his neck. The sharpened blade slices through the grey flesh and stops at the bone. He lets loose a torrent of horrid screams and squeals for a few moments, and then falls to the ground with a heavy thump. Thick blood seeps from the wound.

I look up at Emily and she seems surprisingly unruffled.

"Could you help me?" I ask.

She quickly hurries over to me as if she has experience with gutting and clearing an animal. "What do you need help with?" She asks in an excited tone.

"I am going to cut off the two hind legs. Do you think you could carry them back to the house and prepare them for a stew?" I ask.

"Yes, of course!" She says giddily.

"And could you look for some herbs as I start with the cutting?" I ask as I lift up the rear left leg.

She nods and quickly hurries into the trees

I take out a smaller knife and start cutting through the flesh and muscle. The beginning is rather easy, but it becomes much harder for the bone cannot be cut through with much ease. Instead, I have to cut through the tendons that bind the two bones together. After cutting through the tendons, the leg comes off with great ease. I set the monstrous leg to the side and begin to cut into the next leg. This one comes off in a lot less time, for I already know the tricks involved with it.

Emily gets back just as a pull the second leg off. She is carrying an armful of what looks like grass and weeds to me, but I assume they are some herbs.

"Do you think you can carry it all back at once?" I ask as I stand up.

"Yep, I'll be okay," she replies with a smile.

I hand her the two legs and she starts to walk in the direction of the house.

Day 47: Dusk

I see the house up ahead and see that I will barely get home in time to beat the zombies. I set the remains of the boar's carcass at the base of a tree and walk inside to get a large pelt.

"Hi," Emily says as I walk in.

"Hi, I have to go back out. I need to put the rest of the meat up in a tree for the night so nothing gets it."

"Okay, be safe," she says with a worried look of her face.

I walk outside with the pelt and notice a few zombies nearby. They don't see me so I hastily get to work with securing the meat inside of the pelt. One of them sees me and I fumble to finish tethering it together. I finish and quickly toss it up into the tree. Luckily, it catches on a branch about half way up and it stays there. I make a mad dash for the door and slam it behind me. The zombie stands at the door peering in. He doesn't make and attempt to find a way in.

After a minute or so of me standing still he seems to lose interest in me and he leaves. My muscles relax and I slowly walk over to the stove where Emily is cooking the stew.

"It smells delicious," I say as I inhale deeply.

"Thank you. It won't be done for a while, though," she says as she stirs in a handful of herbs to the stew. "You can wash your hands on this," she says as she tosses a wet piece of cloth at me.

I swiftly catch it and sit down at my work bench. I scrub the dirt and blood of my hands slowly and think of how we can make this place more habitable. There isn't too much that we could really do. We could dig some sort of moat, but that would take a long time… too much time for it to be worthwhile. I yawn which causes me to realize how tired I am. I stand up to walk over to the bed.

"I think I am going to go lie down," I say.

"Okay, I'll come get you when the food is ready."

"Thank you."

I trudge down toward my room and lie down on my bed. I inhale deeply and feel comfort in the damp earthy smell of my room. I shiver on my bed and pull up the blanket to envelop myself. I slowly warm up and start to drift off. I slowly breathe and smell, once again, the delicious aroma of the stew before I slip into a welcomed dream state.

Supper

I slowly open my eyes and stretch my legs in bed. I feel better rested than earlier. I slowly sit up and yawn. The delicious aroma of the stew fills the room, beckoning me to walk to the kitchen. I comply.

I get out of bed and walk up the stairs into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're up! The stew will be done in about five minutes," she says before taking a sip of the broth.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask.

"I think about two hours," she replies. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did," I say. "I feel very well rested."

"Actually, I think it's done now."

She carefully takes the stew in the gourd out of the fire and sets it on the table. She proceeds to take out two bowls crafted from gourds, too, out of a chest. She must have made them while I was away sometime, for I have not seen them before.

My mouth drools furiously as she pours the chunky stew into the bowls. She sits down and I take a seat along with her. The steam rises into my face bringing along with it a medley of smells. In the stew I can see the boar's meat, potatoes, and a lot of herbs. I delicately dip my spoon into the broth and allow it to fill with meaty chunks and other mouth-watering ingredients. I slowly lift the spoon to my lips and allow it to enter. The wholesome flavor nearly overwhelms me.

"Emily, this is amazing," I say before I gulp down the rest of the stew in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you! You really think so?"

"Yeah, of course!" I exclaim. "How do you do it?"

"I'm not really sure. I just think that certain things should go together, and they do!"

"Really?" I ask. "That's quite odd."

"Yeah, I know," she agrees. "It feels like I have cooked before."

"I have been getting feelings like that about myself," I agree. "Most of the things are little, but some are bigger."

"What are some of them?" She asks.

"Well, a big one is hunting," I explain. "The first time that I hunted, I knew exactly what to do. I knew pretty much everything to do. It is really weird. Another is how to skin and gut a carcass. I knew exactly where to make each incision and which way to pull the skin. I even knew how to take the organs out and which of them we could safely eat. And then there was when we were in the caves. I somehow knew what coal was and what it does. I can't explain how I know them… it's really bizarre."

"Wow… that is really weird," she agrees. "I thought it was only me that felt like that. I didn't really think about how you knew what you knew."

My attention slowly shifts to the night sky. Through the window I can see a large portion of it. It is not a true window, but a hole in the wall about a square foot in size−too small for any zombies to squeeze their way through.

The moon tonight is full and very bright. It is truly quite mesmerizing. The way it reflects the sun's light is amazing. And the way the moon illuminates the wilderness is even more beautiful.

"Are you okay, Adam?" She asks.

"Of course I am. Why do you ask?" I respond.

"It's just that you have been looking out of the window for a while," she explains.

"Oh," I laugh. "I've just been looking at the moon. It is really beautiful tonight… a full moon."

"Wow… it really is," she agrees as she leans over to gaze at the moon along with me.

We both find ourselves looking at the landscape. There are two zombies harmlessly walking around in between the tall pine trees.

"You had better keep an eye out for werewolves," she jokingly says, breaking both of us out of the spell.

Emily yawns quietly as she stands back up from her chair.

"You should probably get to bed", I suggest. "You don't want to be tired tomorrow. Something may come up, and we may need to been fully rested."

"Okay," she says.

I stand up to go to my bed when Emily throws her arms around me. I stand in confusion for a few seconds and then gently wrap my arms around her. The feel of her warmth is comforting. A lock of hair falls onto my face but I do not truly mind. We both stand in the middle of the room hugging each other. My mind is racing. Have we been hugging too long? Should I let go? What do I do?

I lightly pull my arms away when I feel the moment is right.

"Thank you for taking me in and taking care of me," she says quietly.

"It's… it's no problem. It just wouldn't be the same without you being with me," I respond bashfully.

She leans in and lightly kisses me on the cheek. "Goodnight," she says smiling. "And thank you for everything."

"Goodnight", I respond, blushing.

I walk down the creaky wooden steps and into my dark room and shiver. It has been getting a little colder lately. The covers to my bed are wool, so they will keep me warm. I lay down in my bed a pull the covers over my body and take a deep breath and sigh.

I will not be able to fall asleep any time soon. My mind is racing. I cannot stop thinking about her. Does she like me? Does she know that I like her? Did she hug me because she likes me or as a thank you?

"Okay… I need to calm down and clear my mind," I quietly say to myself.

I lie there, perfectly still. I close my eyes. I relax my body. I clear my mind. Slowly, I drift. I drift into a slumber, not a light slumber, but a deep, deep slumber that is barren, empty of dreams, so empty and bottomless that I almost feel lost, lost in my own mind.

Day 49

My eyes slowly open and allow light to enter. I inhale deeply before sitting up and stretching my body. I start with my legs and work my way to my back. I arch my back to crack it. The cracks start at the bottom and make their way to my neck. I then roll my neck in a circle, thus cracking it also. I stand up and stretch my legs. I walk up the stairs and into the kitchen and see that Emily has also just awoken.

"Good morning!" I exclaim.

"Good morning to you too!" She pipes back before hugging me.

Thoughts of last night flood back into my memory like a mudslide. I fight terribly hard to contain them. We pull away and she smiles at me.

"Did you sleep well last night?" She asks

"Yes, I did actually. I got the best sleep that I can remember," I remark. "What about you? Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did too," she says as she pulls a sword and a shovel from a chest.

"What is the plan for today," I ask.

"I thought we should just take a day to relax," she says. "You know… to regain our strength."

"It sounds good to me," I say gleefully. "But why do you have a shovel?"

"It's just in case we happen to see anything we may want that needs to be dug up," she explains.

I walk over to the chest and pull out my sword. It is perfectly balanced. It was made for somebody about five and a half feet to six feet tall, so it fits me perfectly. Whoever made this was about the same height as me.

"After you," I say to Emily as I hold the door open for her

"I'll be right out," she says. "I'm going to bring some stew."

I walk outside and almost immediately get a feeling of immense danger. I take to my right and see a zombie lunge at me. He has an odd looking sword, but I parry it. He moves to swing again but I quickly duck and he misses. I look down to see a small lock of hair fall to the ground. It is now that I realize how sharp that his sword truly is. I jab my sword towards him but he dodges it. He quickly swings at me and cuts my left forearm. Cringing, I stumble backwards. He lashes out with his foot in a roundhouse kick – something I though impossible for a zombie. I fall backward into a tree and slump to the ground. Barely aware of the situation due to the blood loss and head injury, I lie helpless. Raising his sword in a final attempt to finish off a trespasser of his land, the now-visible sun glints off of a knife on his waist. He wavers and shields his eves, trying to fight away the bright light. He regains his sight, and as he is about to send his sword crashing down on me, he lets out a deep grunt. He looks down at his chest to see a blade sticking out inches from it. I large circle of blood starts to form around the wound, but it does not stop him; it only angers him even more. I kick him off of me but he barely moves. The blade disappears from his chest; I see Emily wielding it.

"Hurry!" I attempt to yell.

The zombie, having regained its balance, forces its head into my own nearly rendering me unconscious. She clutches the knife in her hand and drives it into the zombie's temple. It pitches forward and is still.

I look up and see Emily standing before me with a worried look on her face. She quickly kneels down beside me.

"Oh my gosh!" She says. "Are you okay?"

I try to speak but the noises only come out as muffled gurgles.

"Here… I'll be right back"

Emily hurries into the house and out of sight. I lay here with my mind racing. I can feel the adrenaline surging through my veins trying to give me strength, yet I feel too weak to stand. I dare to look down at my left arm. There is a large cut on my forearm. It is several inches in length. It bleeds profusely. I feel my stomach start to churn and I get hit with a sudden wave of nausea. I want to vomit so desperately to rid of this terrible feeling, but my body will not allow it. My vision begins to blur and the world starts to turn. The light of the sun slowly becomes dimmer and dimmer as I fall into a blissful unconsciousness.

Day 50

I slowly awaken to the noise of a crackling fire in the oven. I try to open my eyes but the light hurts my head terribly. It feels like an immense pressure behind my eyes. The fire heats up the room to a comfortable temperature. How is there a fire by my bed? I force my eyes open and sit up in my bed… no… Emily's bed. I am not lying in my own bed in my room, but I am lying in Emily's bed.

I feel a relief from the pain when I close my eyes. Lying on my side, I peer through one eye to evaluate the room. There is no sight of Emily. Over the fire there is a gourd filled with what I hope is some type of drink. It hangs on a strategically placed stick. Seeing the possibility of a drink makes me realize how thirsty I am. How desperately thirsty I am. My mouth is terribly dry. I try to move my tongue, but it is pasted to the roof of my mouth. My lips are dry and chapped. I imagine a cold drink of water running down my throat and quenching my deathly thirst. I try to sit back up but I cannot. I am lying plastered to my bed as I am tortured by the thought of a drink. I try once again to sit upright. I am using every ounce of muscle on my body to sit up, but am rewarded with failure.

I begin to worry. Why is Emily not here? Thoughts of what may have happened to her flood my mind. She could have been devoured alive by a group of zombies. Maybe she had broken a leg and cannot move. The thoughts give me the strength to sit upright. Using all of my energy, I force myself upright. With a cry of pain, I force myself to stand. I stumble forward and steady myself on the wall. Ignoring my thirst, I focus on finding Emily. I stumble forward and fail to catch myself. I crash to the ground.

I lay on the ground in pain. The light slowly begins to darken and my vision begins to blur. Slowly, I begin to fall back into unconsciousness.

Day: Unknown

I see a figure standing in the woods, a short distance away. "Adam," it calls.

Its voice seems to come from everywhere, yet nowhere. It is not yelling, either. It sounds oddly calm.

"Adam?" It beckons.

The ground begins to shake and gravity starts to alter. I clutch a tree to avoid sliding across the seemingly flat ground. Rocks, twigs, and fallen branches begin to shift. They soon begin to slide across the floor of the woods.

"Adam!" It says again, only this time more desperately. The voice is beginning to sound female. "Adam! Wake up!"

Day 50

My eyes shoot open and I see Emily. My breathing calms and hers does as well. I sit up on my bed... no, _her _bed. I feel very cold yet there is sweat gathered on my forehead. Emily sits down at my side and places her hand on my leg, giving me a relieved smile.

I look at her with a cocked head. "What happened?" I ask, pushing back the biting edge of a headache.

"It's okay; you just had a bad dream. When I came back from looking for herbs, I saw you lying on the ground," she explains. She thinks a bit before continuing. "I saw you lying on the floor. I hurried over to your side and knelt down. I put my ear onto your chest to make sure that you were okay. I struggled to pick you up, but I managed to. I set you down on the bed trying to wake you, and you woke up after about maybe a minute."

I sit quietly for a moment. "Thank you," I respond, not sure of how to do so appropriately. "I awoke earlier and realized that you weren't here. I became worried and I tried to get up to find you. I was very weak and I was not even able to make it to the door. I collapsed where you found me."

She leans forward and hugs me. "That's very sweet," she says, smiling.

Silence falls upon the room. "Do we have anything to drink?" I ask. "I am terribly thirsty."

"Yes," she gets up. "We do." She walks over to the fire and looks into the gourd that I had seen before, and picks up a wooden tool that she seemed to have carved. She lifts the gourd off of the stick with her tool to avoid touching its hot surface. She carries it over to my working table. Steam has recently started to emanate from the gourd, and is now billowing from it.

"How long was I asleep?" I request.

She finishes stirring the enigmatic fluid and pours it into a smaller gourd that can be held in a hand with ease. "You've been unconscious for about one day." She hand the fluid filled gourd to me. "I made this tea for you. It will make you better."

"Thank you," I say. I peer into the gourd and see leafy material floating the surface of the water. I peer at her, and she nods. I put my nose up to the gourd's edge and inhale. The liquid smells earthy and I also smell a hint of mint. Reluctantly, I raise the gourd up to my lips. I allow the fluid to flow into my mouth. Its flavor possesses the same earthy and minty flavor as its smell does. I swallow and feel it slide down my parched throat.

"I made the tea earlier this morning," she says. "I went outside to find some food when I came across some mint and garlic. I hastily grabbed them and ran home. I threw them together and added them to water in a gourd and hung it over the fire."

"Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad," I say. "My arm hurts a bit, though." I look down at my left forearm for the first time since I have awoken. I see that there is a large bandage covering it. On the top of the bandage I can see a small amount of blood that had soaked through.

She realizes my confusion from the bandage and explains. "After I brought you inside, I had to make sure that your wound wouldn't get infected. I cleaned it out with a damp piece a cloth and searched for some herbs to help in the prevention of infection. I found a plant and used its leaves to help with infection. So, I ground the leaves into a paste and spread it onto the wound. It didn't keep you from getting sick, though. You got a terribly harsh fever." She looks out the window for a moment, as if thinking of what to say next. "I had absolutely no idea of what to do at that point. I slept in your bed that night. When I woke up, your fever had started to diminish. That was when I went out to find some food. I know that we had stew, but I wanted some berries to go with it. After I found the garlic and mint and made the tea, I went back outside in search of the berries."

"You went through a lot to make sure I would be okay… thank you."

"It really wasn't_ that_ much work," she counters. "Do you think that you will be able to go outside?"

Everything seems to be moving rather quickly. I only just woke up.

I sit up, testing my strength. "I feel great," I lie. I don't feel great. I feel as if I have pulled every muscle in my body, like a towel that has been wrung out.

She looks at me, knowing that I am not fully telling the truth, like the way a school teacher looks at a lying student. "Okay," she says. "You have to finish your tea first. And you need to eat."

I lift the gourd up to my lips and tilt my head backward, allowing the flavorful liquid to flow down my dry throat. "What have you made to eat?" I ask. "Is it the stew or something different?"

She stands up and walks over to the fire. "It's both, I suppose. It is the stew, but I added a lot of garlic. The garlic should help you stay healthy." She cautiously lifts a large gourd out of the flames with a wet piece of cloth. Setting it down, she is sure to not to spill it.

She walks over to the chest and rummages through. After a minute, she pulls out two bowls fashioned from gourds. She proceeds by unveiling two simple spoon-like wooden tools.

I stand and watch as she carefully pours the garlic and boar stew into smaller bowls. A delicious aroma begins to fill the room. Thought of the stew begin to fill my mind. The thoughts of its marvelous flavor are large enough factors to make me salivate, but the smell only adds to it.

"You should be able to taste the garlic well enough," she says as she hands me the stew-filled bowl.

I dip my spoon into the liquid and slowly allow it to fill with meat in addition to a chunk of what I assume is garlic. Raising the spoon to my mouth, I get a close look at the piece of the yellowish-white garlic. I put the spoon into my mouth and slowly chew the food, savoring each and every morsel of it. Flavors of the potatoes, meat, garlic, and herbs rush through my mind.

"It's delicious," I say.

"Thank you," she responds. "What all are you feeling? What pain are you in?"

Most of my body hurts. "Not too much," I lie. "My arm is quite painful. Along with that, all of my muscles hurt and I have a throbbing headache." I think for a moment. "That is all." I decide not to tell her of my nausea, drowsiness, and a few other pains not because I want to seem tough or manly, but because I do not want her to worry or to stress over me.

She looks minutely worried, but I excuse it as a concern for my health. "That's good," she says.

"What all happened? You know… when I was attacked by that zombie. Most of it is a bit fuzzy for me. I cannot really remember much of it."

"I came outside to find you lying on the ground, motionless with a zombie standing over you, holding a sword. I plunged my sword into his back, and he fell to the ground, dead… or whatever you call it when the undead 'dies'. I ran inside to get a strip of cloth to cut off blood flow to the wound. When I came back, you were unconscious." She pauses for a moment. "I was scared… I thought you had died. I put my ear unto you nose and felt your breath, faint but perceptible. I tied the cloth 'round your arm and drug you inside and hefted you onto my bed."

In my head, I begin to talk to myself. "It is amazing how two people, after only knowing each other for only a little over a month, will do such things for one another. Is it not?"

I must have been moving my lips, for Emily was giving me an odd look. "Are you sure you are alright?"

I chuckle. "Yes, I'm fine," I say smiling at her.

She smiles back. "You know… I have not even told you the best part of what happened."

I look at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You will just have to see for yourself." She quickly hurries out the door and into the sun.

I stand up. I limp over to door and continue through it. Lying in the grass is the body of the zombie. This zombie, however, is different… much different. It bears what looks to be a military uniform. Lying beside his body are my tools, and his own. I had not taken much notice of his sword as we battled, but I had noticed how it cut with ease – much more so than an iron or steel sword. His sword is black. I limp over to it, trying to avoid contact with the rotting corpse, and pick it up. It is perfectly balanced. Light though it is, it possesses an exceptionally sharp blade.

Running my finger over the blade, I can feel its razor thin edge. The handle is crafted from a silvery metal – steel or iron perhaps – and has an intricate design etched into the base of the handle.

_Sacratus Lamina_

I continue to examine the fine craftsmanship of the blade and handle. "Sacratus Lamina," I mumble under my breath. "Sacratus Lamina."

"What?"

I look up to see Emily peering over my shoulder. "On the bottom of the handle," I explain, "It says 'Sacratus Lamina."

"What does it mean?"

"I'm not too sure of that. I believe it's in Latin, though."

She continues to look at the sword. "May I?" She asks.

"Of course." I hand it to her, making sure to hand it to her by the handle and not the blade.

As she looks over the sword, I look over the body of the zombie. It, hopefully, will contain tools valuable to us. After looking over his body, the first things I see that may be of use to us are his combat boots. Disgusting though it may seem, once thoroughly cleaned, they will protect feet whilst keeping them warm in cold temperatures.

The body is gruesome. Lying in a pool of its own blood, it gathers flies. The fingertips of the sunlight reach through the remaining leaves and dry its rotted flesh like a child reaching for a late-night snack into an out of reach jar. Slowly drying the flesh, the heat of the sun warms the body as well, causing a terrible stench to emanate from it. Visible wounds on the arms and head cause me to grimace. From the one cut protrudes the head of a maggot.

I step back from the body to allow myself the privilege to breathe fresh air – air that is not yet contaminated by stench of rotted… _rotting _flesh. After a short while, I kneel back down beside the body. After looking it over, I decide to flip it to see the front and its possible treasures. I force my hands under the lifeless body and use all of my strength to turn it. It falls onto its back and I once again step backward to regain my strength. Though feeling slightly better, my muscles continue to ache, persisting on their journey to slow me down. From my current position, I look over the front side of the body. Only on the third pass over do I see something of value. On his left hip lies a combat knife, strapped on. I bend down slowly and remove it from its original owner.

The knife in itself is a glorious find. I weigh it in my hand. Tossing it back and forth in my hands, I begin to acquire a feel for it. The handle is made from a hard black material. Tightly woven around the handle is a black cloth. Smooth and tough, the cloth makes for a respectable and durable grip. The blade, five inches in length, is a blackened silver color. Numerous notches have been etched into the base of the blade that will cause a jagged rough cut − one that will cause greater damage and pain.

I look up at Emily as she continues to examine the warrior's weapon. "Here," I say, shifting her attention to the combat knife. "He also carried this."

With a careful hand, she picks the knife from my own and hands me the warrior's weapon.

Emily looks up from the combat knife. "I've been thinking," she says. "We aren't able to go outside at night at all. And it sometimes is dangerous to go outside during the morning."

"Yes, I know."

"I've thought about that too," I explain. "I thought about a moat, but that would take too long to be worthwhile, and we would have trouble crossing it. A fence would not be strong enough. A group of zombies could knock it over with ease."

"I see what you're saying, but what if we were to build a large fence?"

"How large are you thinking of?"

"Large," she says, smiling. "The fence would have to be large. Six feet in height. The fence wouldn't have to cover too much area. Only enough to give up some room to go outside. It might cover the area of the house and about five feet on all of the sides."

I think for a moment. "How do you propose the fence would be made? What would its design be?"

"Well… ever three or so feet would be a larger post. It would be maybe half of a foot in diameter. Woven in between would be long branches of trees. It would be made similar to a wicker basket or chair."

Thinking over the idea of building the fence, I continue to stand in silence.

"It sounds as if it would work… but would it not take a while to build?" I question.

"It would take a while, but there are ways that we could shorten the time."

"What do you mean?"

"The easiest way to make building the fence would be using the fallen trees and branches instead of cutting trees down."

I chuckle to myself. "You have really thought this out, haven't you?"

She smiles. "Yes, I have. And as another way that we could save time, low branches on trees could be chopped down instead of cutting the whole tree."

"We should be able to do that. It will still take a while, but we should be able to. When do you think we should start with the gathering?"

"Probably not for another day at the least; you need to feel better. You're still weak from being sick," she explains.

"I am still tired" I look up at the sky to determine the time of day. The sun is, at the moment, two and a half palm-widths above the horizon.

"If you are going to go to bed, you will have to eat some more of the stew. It will help you become well."

"Okay," I succumb, even though I am not at all hungry. The stench of the body has pilfered my lingering hunger.

Before going inside, I give the body a remaining once-over. He wears a camouflaged jacket had been reinforced with a thick, wire mesh lining on the inside to prevent and cuts. It did not seem to prevent and stab wounds. His pants, also camouflage, are not reinforced. They are instead thin and lightweight. I dreadfully wish to take the jacket to use as my own, but the thought of whom, or _what_ it belonged to deters me too much.

"Are you done?" I hear Emily say sarcastically.

"Yes," I say.

She begins to walk inside.

"Emily, wait," I say, stopping her.

"What?"

"Shouldn't we wash our hands?"

"Good point," she says.

We both walk over to the cold spring. We quickly wash our hands and walk back to the house. Emily walks inside, but I stand beside the body. After putting more though into it, I decide that it is in our best interest to salvage what we are able to. I remove the jacket with haste, walk back towards the spring, and wash it.

Jacket at hand, I walk back to the house and toss it into the chest.

"Here you go," Emily smiles, handing me my soup,

"Thanks." I gulp down my stew and set the bowl by the fire.

"I'm going to bed now," I say.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

I thump down the steps and over to my bed. I peel back the overs and lie down, pulling them back over falling asleep within minutes.

Day 58: Afternoon

I walk through the trees with my axe at hand. There are many branches that are the right size for the posts, but the majority is rotted in places or is too water-logged to be carried. I approach another tree, and resting up against the tree, is a branch of perfect size. I walk up and look over it. There is no sign of rotting. The log is a medium brown color − not dark in color yet not light. It is about eight feet in height. It is fairly straight and has no smaller braches splitting off from it.

I set my axe down at the base of a nearby tree.

Using most of my strength, I lift up the branch over my shoulder. I set it back down on the ground. It is fairly dry, yet it is flexible. It is the perfect branch for a post in the fence. I pick up my axe and put it behind my back using a newly added strap. It has proven itself useful in situation where my hands are full. I lift up the branch and rest it on my shoulder and start walking back to the house.

With the house now in full view, I have an opportunity to admire the fence. It is carefully made. After three days of searching for different sized branches and building, we have accomplished a large sum of work. The fence is now covering three sides of the house. Emily is fitting small branches in between the posts. Beside her lays a pile of branches that she had gathered while I was searching for a larger branch.

I approach her. "How is it going?" I ask upon setting the heavy branch down.

"Well," she responds.

Though the fence is not entirely aesthetically pleasing, it will serve as a prodigious barrier from the beastly creatures of the wild.

"We have come a long way from when I… when _we _arrived." I walk up to her side.

"Are you tired?" she asks.

"Yes, a little bit," I reply.

The wind lightly blows.

"Let's rest for a short while," I suggest.

She thankfully nods and follows after me.

We walk inside and take a seat at out crudely made table. It serves it purpose well, but is roughly made−not very pretty.

"Would you like some tea?" she asks, standing up and walking to the crackling oven.

"I would love to have some tea!" I sprightly chirp. "I have not ceased to be amazed by our seemingly endless talents. Whether it is my fighting, hunting, and building abilities, or you cooking and medical abilities or even your keen eyesight, I am truly amazed."

She smiles at me. "Me too," she responds.

"I know, it is a blatant thing to say, but it is true."

"Yes I know," she says, laughing.

I join in on the brief laughter and then change the subject.

"Do you ever wonder why there are zombies here?" I ask.

"I have not really put much though into it. Why?"

"I don't know. I just wonder sometimes. I just find it unusual how such a thing can exist. How can a deceased body reanimate? It does not seem very logical to me."

"I see what you're saying," she says, "and I agree."

I stand up and walk over to the chest. The chest, also, is crudely made. It was made with some boards laced together with another wide board on the top to cover it. There are no hinges to allow for an attached covering. There were also no nails used to attach the boards to each other. The building of it took quite a while of shaving minute amounts of wood off of the boards to allow for a perfect fit between each other.

I reach into the chest and pull out the obsidian sword and the combat knife that I salvaged from the undead warrior.

"They are very well made," I say as I sit back down beside Emily.

"It is a shame that we couldn't have been friends," she jokes. "He would have excelled as a guard."

I look at the dark blade of the warrior's weapon for a short while, and then put it back into the chest along with the combat knife.

"I am quite eager to test the sword out. It is very sharp and should easily cut through rotten flesh with ease," I remark, "but we are lucky that I have not had to do so yet."

"I think that was a long enough break. Are you ready to head back out?"

"Yes," I agree and follow after her outside.

The weather is neither cold nor hot, but is the perfect temperature in between the two. A light breeze rustles the loose leaves on the dry ground and the remaining ones on the nearly barren trees.

The leaves, red, brown, orange, and yellow, give the landscape a different feel than when I first arrived. The landscape had before been beautiful, but now it is even more so. There is a feeling of overall peace and serenity.

I sojourn my admiration to assist Emily with the building of the barrier.

I pick up the branch that I earlier carried over and walk over to its spot along the fence. There is already a two foot hole dug to place the end of the branch. I slowly lower it in until I feel it hit the bottom. I push my weight against it to test its stability and fitting in the hole, and there is no give−a perfect fit.

Emily steps back and admires the nearly complete fence.

Long, thin branches lace between the posts−the beginnings to an oversized wicker basket. The branches go no farther than the length of three posts.

"I forgot my axe inside," I say.

"I'll come with you," she says with a chirp.

We both walk inside and I pick up my axe off of the floor, and then walk back outside.

"We have come a long way."

"We have," I agree.

"What do you propose we do next?"

"I am not sure yet. I have not put much thought into it."

"We have almost all that we need. We have a house, we have the fence as protection, we have fresh water from the spring, we have an accessible supply of food−"

I cut her off. "Yes, but we have yet to get to know the land better. We can explore−move beyond our usual traveling distance, look for new animals and plant… we can go on an…" I think for a moment for the correct word, "an adventure!"

"It does sound like it is a good idea," She approves.

_Snap_

I turn my head instinctively in the direction of the sound.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I raise my finger to my mouth to signal her to be soundless.

I have no sensible reason for my fear and paranoia at this moment, but my instincts tell me otherwise.

Emily gives me a look of confusion, but I silently pull the obsidian sword from my back instead of attempting to enlighten my actions.

I creep over to doorway and slip through. Expecting to see a zombie, I tighten my already deathly grip on the sword's handle, preparing for a battle full of blood.

I feel my heart beating inside of my chest along with the adrenalin coursing through my blood.

I round the corner to the home of the noise, blade raised.

There is nothing in the area of where the noise came from. There are no zombies or even animals.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump around, only to see that it is Emily.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I thought I heard something outside."

"It's okay, the only thing out here are your foot prints," she says before walking back to where she is working on the fence.

The footprints are too large to be Emily's. They are the same size as my own, but I have not been to this side of the house today, or possible yesterday. I brush it off without a second thought and walk back over to Emily.

"It'll be nice being able to walk outside in the morning without the fear of being attacked and even killed," Emily says.

"It surely will," I agree before pushing at various locations in the fence to test its stability and strength.

The leaves, continuously rustling at the hands of the wispy breeze, snatch my attention with ease.

Day 61

"I just don't understand this rock," I say, irritated.

Emily, siting at the table, sets down her food. "What's wrong?"

"Do you remember when we went into the cave and found that weird tan and gray rock?" "Yes, is there something wrong with it?" She walks over to me.

"I can't seem to figure out what it does. I have a gut feeling that it does something, but I can't figure it out."

I look back down at the rock in my hands, and scowl. The rock, heavy in my hands, continues to arouse more questions. What purpose does this mysterious rock serve… and why do I have an internal feeling that it is important?

"I… I don't really care. I'm just going to toss it into the fire and see what happens"

"Are you sure?" Emily asks. A lock of her hair falls over her eye.

"Yeah, I am sure."

"Be careful," Emily says before sitting back down, "We don't know what it does yet. It may be dangerous."

I lift the earthy smelling rock over the crackling fire and drop it in. It hits the bottom with a firm thud, sending up a smidgeon of ash in a haze.

"That solves that problem." I smile and sit beside Emily, glad to no longer have to hem and haw over it. My hands sit on the table, fingers interlaced. I ineptly gaze outside the window and sigh. Not having been up long, I yawn, infectiously causing Emily to yawn along with me−a concerto of yawns.

Turning to me, Emily opens her mouth as if to speak, but then closes it for a moment.

_Chika-dee-dee-dee… Chika-dee-dee-dee…_

The small birds continuously chatter outside. Though tedious and incessant, it never seems to bother me, but instead brightens my mood, whether it is gloomy or distressed, it never fails.

Having thought of what to say, she looks back at me. "Are you ready to go outside?"

I silently groan to myself. Being exhausted from the labor of the previous night, I wish to spend a few additional hours in a sweet slumber, not being outside and quite possibly even doing hard work.

"Yes," I lie. "Are you?"

"Yeah, me too."

The fire continues to sing its crackling song as I walk over to the door. I open it to allow Emily through. She gracefully walks through the door and I follow after, obsidian sword at hand. I firmly push the door against the wall. Although I made the door to the best of my abilities, it is not flush with the wall. To shut it completely, I need to pull up on the left hand side, the side opposite to the hinges, and push the door in further.

With the door completely shut, I turn around and grin.

The fence serves as a proficient barrier between the creatures who reside on the side opposite of ours. The only passage between the two sides is a small gate located opposite to the front door. The gate does not disrupt the continuous fence around the house. The fence continues over the gate, assuring that no creatures of the wild are able to pass over.

The passage, more comparable to a door than a gate, stands five feet tall and can be open only by raising a simplistic piece of wood that keeps the door in place with its naturally cleft end.

I unlatch the fence's door and push it outward, the only way that it is able to be pushed. I have to bow to pass through the gate as a result of me having nearly a full foot on the door. Emily, being a few inches shorter than I, has less trouble making it thorough. When Emily passes through the door, I gently close it behind her and latch it. Unlike the door of the house, the smaller, crudely built door of the fence has a perfect fit to the surrounding walls.

I turn around to face Emily. "What is the plan for today?" I ask with a smile, much less forced than before.

"I thought we could have a slower day," she suggests. "We don't really need to do much."

I chuckle to myself. A day consisting of little labor was a peculiar idea. "It sounds like I good idea," I say, no longer having to force a smile upon my face.

"Adam..." Emily begins to say, "I've been thinking and I think we should work on getting another food source. I don't mean to replace our current food, but in addition to. We are probably going to be here for a long time… so we need to plan ahead."

Standing in the sunlight, she eagerly looks at me.

"What exactly do you mean?" I ask.

"Seeds," she says.

"Seeds? Why would we want to eat seeds?"

She smiles at me and tries not to giggle. "We wouldn't eat the seeds," she explains. "We would plant them."

"That makes a little more sense," I say, laughing. "What type of seeds were you thinking of?"

The way she looks out into the distance as she thinks reminds me of the charisma she unknowingly possesses. Her hair loosely flutters in the light breeze. Her beauty, never failing to enchant me, continues to do so.

"Anything that we can eat, really. You know… like garlic, carrots, onions, and maybe potatoes if we get lucky." She smiles at me once again, igniting a burst of happiness and energy from the once tired core of my body.

"Where do you think we should start?" I ask her.

"I guess we should just walk around and see what we are able to find. Does that sound okay to you?"

"It sounds great to me," I say with a jovial smile.

"We'll leave in a few minutes, I suppose. I have to go back to the house to get my shovel. I'll be back soon." At that she quickly runs back through the door of the fence and out of my sight.

I use my time alone to sit against the fence and take in all that is around me. I lean against a post in the fence and stretch. I close my eyes in inhale deeply. The rich scent of the woodlands fills my nostrils and my lips stretch into a relaxed smile. The woods have an earthy smell coming from the soil, rotting leaves, wood, and brush. The aroma always seems to relax me, yet it also reminds me of the ghastly creatures that lurk in the shadows, waiting for darkness to arrive, allowing them to roam the land and wreak havoc on those who dare to accept the challenge of living here.

My mood quickly changes to a sullen state, angered and saddened by the challenge of living among the creatures that inhabit this land. But we, in truth, are the forbidding creatures. We are the adversaries. They are the ones who live this land. This place, though hard to grasp, is not _our_ home… not yet it isn't. They had lived freely and without bouts before we had arrived, but we have disturbed the peace. The true brutes here live in a small house and kill the inhabitants of this unknown land.

I shake my head in an attempt to rid myself of the blasphemy, but I, at heart, know that it is true.

The harmonious chatter of small birds distracts my mind from the saddening thoughts that had occupied it beforehand. The soft chirps and cheeps slowly begin to enlighten my attitude. I take another deep breath and smile. I open my eyes and jump to my feet just as Emily opens the door and walks into the shade of the towering trees.

"Sorry I took so long," she says sheepishly. "I got a little sidetracked."

"It's okay," I respond. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, are you?"

"I'm as ready as I can be." I make a quick check to see what we are bringing along with us. I have my obsidian sword along with the combat knife and my axe strapped across my back. Emily has a shovel at hand and, on her back, is a rucksack that I had earlier made. "What did you put into the bag?" I question.

"Nothing yet," she responds blatantly, yet with a smile. "But we will hopefully be filling it with food and seeds."

We look at each other and, as if reading each other's minds, concurrently turn on the balls of our feet and walk, in the same direction, into the thicket, beginning our journey to find and discover new sorts of food and seeds to cultivate.

The wildlife continues on with its uninterrupted chatter as we hike between trees−an elaborate and stunning maze of innumerable shades of green and brown, never seeming to have an end, but only the occasional break in the canopy and undergrowth− as if we were not present. Perhaps, with the unremitting presence of the undead, they had long evolved from fear of humanoids, for the undead appear to overlook the wildlife for the most part. Whether or not it is of their intent, the undead _do _overlook them.

The obvious rustling of leaves nearby instantly alerts me of an animal nearby.

Emily, too, overheard the noise instigated by the animal and stops in her tracks. She looks at me as if I, too, had heard the noise. I nod in response and ready my sword, whether to parry an attack or attack the creature myself. The blade glints in the obscured light.

An easily audible thump is radiating from the area of the disturbed leaves.

_Thump… thump… thump thump… thump… thump… thump thump…_

I step forward and quickly scan the surrounding area. Not even a small bird or rabbit stands nearby, or even in view. Disappointed from the false hope of perhaps finding a rabbit to later eat, I sigh.

A sudden explosion of feathers and hysterical squawking, from right in front of me, nearly knocks me off of my feet and onto the damp and leaf concealed soil. I silently curse at myself for having not been more careful. I regain my balance to see a small bird dart away from me and stop at the top of a log almost 40 feet away, but only long enough for me to see its features. The bird stands almost a foot and a half tall. With its grey and brown feathers, it is no longer a surprise to me that it had hidden itself so easily. It had probably stood only a foot away from we before it decided to bolt, but its camouflaged feathers had beforehand kept it hidden.

I step back into the cleared trail through the woods where Emily stands and look back at her.

"So," she begins, "What was that?"

I laugh at my failure of at attempt to surprise an unsuspecting animal. "It was just some small bird," I explain.

"Do you want to wait around to see if we can find another one?"

"I doubt we would be able to find them," I admit. "They are too well camouflaged."

"Okay, should we continue walking, then?"

"Yeah, there is no reason for us to stay here."

We drive onward through the branches and underbrush that conceal the slender corridor of which we have been traveling. Hundreds of split-toed footprints stretch the seemingly endless length of the corridor. The footprints in the soil suggest that this is actually a deer pass−or one of an animal with similar feet. We continue to walk through the low hanging branches and sweeping vines as Emily parries their swinging attacks− fault of my own. In moving around branches, along with the vines, I had disturbed some from their peaceful spaces, and caused them to come swinging back at her.

I hear Emily's disgruntled mumbles and decide to maneuver between the vines and branches more prudently instead of walking at a hastened pace. Her mumbles soon cease and we continue on our adventure−our search for new food − food to grow and cultivate.

We soon approach a more thickened area. Monstrous trees occupy almost all available space, allowing little for underlying plants−those needed by the small herbivores to survive.

"Have you seen anything that may be of use?" I ask, slowing to a crawl to allow her to draw near.

She sighs. "I haven't seen anything yet, but if we come to a clearing we will have a better chance to find something.

She gives me the "let's go" smile and I turn around and start walking.

The trees tower over our heads, dwarfing our height. They huddle together in a frivolous attempt to halt our search, or, at the least, delay us. I grumble as I contort and twist my body to move through the labyrinth of trees.

I unexpectedly feel a sharp, burning sensation in my lower back, and let out a cry.

Emily, dodging trees, runs over to my side. "What happened?" She asks, furiously gulping down air.

I twist my torso in an attempt to view my lower back, but I am greeted with a small tear in my shirt and thick, red blood. I peel the blood pasted cloth away from the burning wound and am scolded with a searing pain stretching from the cut up to my shoulder blade. Grimacing, I pull my shirt over my head, and pitch it aside. With the wound no longer being concealed by my shirt, I attain a clear view of it. A cut, stretching the length of my index finger, slowly seeps a thick and sticky blood, slowly trickling down my back. Blood pools at the bottommost of the abrasion. Though not very deep, it burns with an intense pain.

Emily, who hasn't said anything since rushing over, speaks franticly: "What happened?"

"I'm not too sure," I grunt, holding back the anticipated tears of pain. I search the immediate area in search of a small animal who may have attacked me, but see no culprit.

Emily winces at the sight of the wound alone; nevertheless she attempts not to show it. To inspect the wound, she bends down. Already swollen, the edges of the wound are exceptionally irritated and pink. Although slower than before, the jagged tear in my flesh continues to bleed. I am normally not a squeamish person, but at the sight of the blood−my _own_ blood−I begin to feel nauseated.

"I think I am going to sit down," I say, my mouth salivating excessively. I thump to the ground and sit cross-legged.

Emily kneels down beside me and places her hand on my shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. The nauseating effect slowly begins to wear away. I run my hand through the small patch of grass I sit upon. A sharp, stinging sensation reaches the tip of my index finder, coming from a culprit hidden from view within the blades of grass. I quickly withdraw my hand and clutch it inside my other. Cautiously, I part the blades in an irritated attempt to end the already short-lived life of the miserable insect that dared to sting and pinch me after being slashed by yet another nameless perpetrator.

No insect had taken shelter within the blades of grass, but, however, I do find a single thorn. The thorn, nearly two and a half inches in length and a quarter of an inch at the base, lies in the grass. I pick it up to examine it, but it has no distinct or special features one it. It could not, however, have been the wrongdoer in the case. There is not a spec of blood residing on it. I toss it to the side.

The thorn falls at the base of one of the trees. It lands beside what looks to be another thorn. I quickly look around only to see that the fallen thorns are everywhere. Emily, having watched me the whole time, seems to have realized the same thing.

I stand up in search of the source of the menacing spikes. "Where−" Before finishing my own question, I answer it.

I had not noticed anything different about the trees because we had been moving too fast to take any notice. On the trees, there are very small thorns that only measure a half of an inch at most. The trees are covered with them. They are, however, too small to be the same as the thorns that scatter the ground.

Emily walks over to my side. "Why are there thorns everywhere?"

"I don't know," I respond, "but they couldn't be from _these_ trees." I look back at the trunk of the tree and look at the thorns. "The ones on the tree are too small."

"Maybe they are from older trees. Ones that−"

"I doubt that, but its certainly possible. The thorns would have probably decomposed if they were _that_ old, but they might be made of a tougher material−more withstanding."

"This is really weird," She says.

My wound, though throbbing, will be okay for the time being. I pick up my shirt, throw up my arms, and slide the shirt over them. "Let's go."

Emily looks at me in surprise. "Are you okay to keep walking?" She asks.

I force a chuckle. "Yes, I suppose I will be fine," I lie.

"Okay," she begins before trailing off, "I will lead us this time. I don't want you to run into anything else." She begins to walk forward and around the first of trees, and I follow.

The trees are so closely packed together that if we had brought any additional luggage or equipment, we would have trouble getting through. I round a tree and almost fall over Emily, who crouches by s series of small plants. The plants have a single stem travel up a distance of at most a foot. Green leaves cover the stem.

"What are they?" I inquire.

"Mint."

"Mint?"

She picks a single leaf from the stem. "Here; Smell this," she explains.

I pluck the leaf from her fingertips and place it under my nose. A sweet aroma fills my nose, exiting me by the thought of the food that could be created alongside the "mint".

I carefully place the leaf inside of my mouth and onto my tongue. I begin to chew the green leaf. My excitement quickly fades and I spit the leaf into the grasses. The leaf has no sweet flavor, and is instead disgusting.

Emily begins to laugh at my expressions. "This is terrible!" I exclaim.

"You do not eat it plain. You cook it in with food or brew it into tea."

"Oh," I say. "Are you sure that it will taste much better after it is prepared?"

"Yes," she laughs, "Of course."

"Alright," I say skeptically. "Ready to keep walking?"

"Yeah. In just a second." She opens her rucksack and puts in the mint, roots and all. "Okay, I'm ready."

She steps around the closest tree and continues forward. I move uncomfortably around the tree trying not to allow my shirt to rub against my cut, but am unsuccessful. Pushing frontward, we advance through the forest of spiny trees.

After what seems like several painstaking hours, we reach a clearing in the trees. The cleared patch is mystic. A single, small stream cuts through the grass-covered earth, completing the beauty of the scene.

"Wow…" Emily says.

Side by side, we trudge forward into a clearing. The sense of unease I had felt in the forest subsides the moment I enter the realm. Playful chatter of nearby birds fills the air along with the aromatic scent of small white flowers on a large bush. Emily and I both grin as we walk across the sanctuary kept hidden within the trees.

"This is beautiful!" I laugh. I walk over to the flower-masked bush and pick a single flower. I turn around and smile at Emily. I move a lock of her hair behind her ear and place the flower there.

"Honeysuckle," She says.

"What?"

She picks a second flower and smells it. "The bush," She smiles, "It's called Honey Suckle."

"Oh," I laugh. I stand for a moment admiring the smell of the bush, and then walk into the sunlight.

I crouch down and fall the grass. This grass is plush; it is inviting. I accept its invitation and lie down on my stomach and close my eyes. The soft grass and warmth of the sunlight surround me as I slowly drift off into a comforting sleep.

Day: Unknown

I open my eyes; my vision is blurred, but I look around. The scene is not unusual in any way. The area is wooded and there are a number of small bushes. I stand with a towering tree to my left.

A young doe, only feet away, grazes on the grass. She leisurely inches forward, not a care in mind. I once again feel relaxed and care-free.

The doe's ears perk up and it stops dead in its tracks. She slowly raises her head and looks into the distance towards my left. Her eyes grow wide and she begins to tremble. Her eyes possess a look that I am all too familiar with: a look of sheer terror. She snaps out of her trance and looks me directly in the eye, as if to warn me of some eminent danger. She turns and retreats at full speed.

I look up from where the doe stood, afraid of what I may see. A sudden fog has rolled in, only allowing me to see fifteen feet at most. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a single figure. I try to turn my head, but am unable. I now begin to feel real fear. I attempt to move my legs, but am rewarded with failure once again. I am only able to move my eyes. I look over to the right to see the figure, slowly coming closer to me. My mouth runs dry. I try swallow, but it helps in no way.

I feel the anticipation welling in the pit of my stomach. Adrenaline courses through my veins. With the fog and my blurred vision, I am unable to make out the broadest of details of the figure, which only furthers my already great fear. I can only make out that the figure is moving toward me−and it is not stopping.

25 feet…

20 feet…

I am now shaking. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I can only make out a few details. The figure has long, ratty hair.

Five feet…

I can feel its breath on my ear. The hair the back of my neck stands on end along with the hair on my legs and arms. I can feel my heart beating.

For at least an hour, the figure stands, out of my view, inches away from me. It constantly breathes on my neck and ear, sending chills down my spine. I want to cry; I need to cry, but I cannot.

"Go away!" I attempt to yell, but it only comes out as a faint, pitiful whimper.

"Adam," It says in a harsh, croaky voice, neither of a male nor female.

I whimper quietly.

"Adam," it giggles.

I feel more fear than I have ever before. I feel for my life, not just my safety, but for my life.

"Adam… come on, Adam." It continues to giggle.

A lump in my throat begins to form and I swallow hard, forcing myself to not show my fear.

"Adam?" It says is a calm voice, mocking me. "Come on!"

Every fiber of my being tells me to run away, but I cannot move; I cannot move at all. It is as if all of my muscles are stuck, frozen in place, and they may as well be frozen.

I feel weight on my shoulder: the weight of a clammy, gaunt hand. "Adam."

Day 61

"Adam?" Emily says. "Come on! Wake up!"

My eyes shoot open. I quickly sit up, gulping down air. My heart is racing. She quickly sees my distress and sits down beside me.

"It's okay," She says, trying to comfort me. "It was all just a dream." She put her arm around me and hugs me.

My mind is racing. I know it is a dream, but it does not stop my panic. I continue thinking about the figure in my dream. He seemed similar to the man in my other dream, the one who fought several zombies and died.

I think about it for another few seconds and brush it off as a result of being here for so long. "I know," I say, still calming down from the dream. "It was just a bad dream." I stand up and look around, admiring the sanctuary, trying to forget the dream. I extend my arm to pull up Emily. She grabs on and I pull her up.

"Thank you," She says, her smile beaming. "I woke you up so I could put this plant sap on your cut. It should soothe it."

"Thanks," I respond. "Where is it?"

"Right here." She reveals a green leaf with a gelatinous blob in it "Just lie on your stomach and pull your shirt up.

"Okay," I again respond. I kneel on the ground and pull my shirt off over my head. I continue to lie down onto my stomach.

I feel her drip the goo onto my wound. It is cool, which also soothes it. She begins to rub it. I wince but attempt to not show my pain as she continues. She soon finishes and tosses the leaf aside. She lays down at my side and smiles.

_Okay, Adam_, I think, _be smooth… _

I stretch my arm around her shoulders and smile. I close my eyes and exhale, trying to forget all of my problems. Not just the dream, but the zombies and everything else. I take long, deep breaths, trying to relax.

Day 61: Nightfall

_Chirp chirp…_

_Chirp chirp…_

_Chirp Chirp… _

My eyes slowly open. My heart stops instantly. Something is wrong… but what? No…

_Crap_

I jump to my feet and quickly look around. The moonlight casts enough light to be able to see − ample light, actually.

"No!" I yell.

Emily, lying down beside me, wakes up from my yell. "What's wrong?" She asks frantically.

"Look!"

"It's getting dark."

"Yeah," I say, "I know."

"We have to go," She says. "This way."

I quickly follow after her. We quickly enter the trees and are rushing to get through to the other side. Barely any light shines through the monstrous trees as we race in between them. The trees feel even closer than before, causing for an even more claustrophobic feel than their otherwise would be. The modest light gives the woods an even moodier feeling than earlier, a mood that only intensifies my anxiety.

"Emily," I say.

No answer.

I look up. "Emily?" I say again. She is nowhere to be seen.

I quicken my pace to catch up with her. I begin to focus on my footsteps to remain calm

_Thump thump thump thump thump..._

I stop to look around for a moment and listen for Emily, but I am given utter silence. Not even the birds dare to utter a noise in these eerie woods. The only noise comes from my heart profoundly pounding in my chest and my own rapid breathing.

That is when I notice something off… but what is it. I look around for a minute but feel nothing but a sudden sensation of being watched and studied by some unseen force. It feels as if eyes are boring themselves into the back of my skull, watching every move I make.

_Snap_

I spin around and quickly bring my fists up, ready to defend myself. I stand motionless for a full minute before I lower my hands.

"I'm going crazy."

I turn back around and that is when I notice what was wrong. It's the thorns. When I cut my back, they were only about half of an inch in length. But now, they are three inches, maybe four.

I shake my head. "No way," I say. "There is no way that they could grow that much." I look around and see that every tree has the long thorns on them.

_Okay_, I think. _Time to go._

I race forward through the trees. Now knowing of the longer thorns, I am even more careful. I have to move slower to avoid touching them, which costs me even more time. I begin to focus on the sound of my own footsteps to keep me from worrying.

_Thump thump thump thump…_

I dodge trees, jumping left and right.

_Thump thump thump... _

Streaks of moonlight barely illuminate the bare ground, causing me to fumble over the roots. I stop running for a moment to listen for Emily.

After another minute, I stop. "Alright, time to go."

I begin to run again with the paranoia gnawing at my feet. I cannot rid myself of the sensation of being watched.

_Thump thump… _

I burst out of the tree line and into much less dense woods, the type of woods that I am used to.

"Adam!" I hear Emily yell. I turn around and am greeted with Emily running up to me, arms open. "I was so worried," she says.

"Why?" I ask. "We were only separated for a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" She asks. "Adam," She gets a worried look on her face, "You were in there for at least an hour. I was getting really worried."

"No," I laugh, "Nice try, but I was only in there for a few minutes." She look at me weird. "You're being serious?" I ask.

"Yes… are you okay?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I respond. "Let's go home."

Day 70

"You ready to explore?" she asks me as she walks away from the house.

"Yep!" I pipe back.

"Well aren't you in a good mood!" She smiles at me.

"Of course I am!" I chime. "I was able to make a shovel with the iron ore that I smelted. I mean really, who would have thought that the tan rocks were iron ore? I'm just glad that I tossed it into our fire instead of tossing it into the trees or some hole**." **

"I suppose that is a good thing."

"Which way do you thing we should head?" I enquire.

"Well, since we normally walk that way," She gestures to my left, "I think we should go this way." She points to my right.

"Alright," I agree. "Let's go!" She smiles at me and we are on our way.

We hike forward into the trees, beginning another journey.

Day 70: Mid-day

"Adam!"

"Yeah?" I stop walking.

"Could you slow down just a bit?" She catches up to me and smiles.

"Sure," I laugh, "No problem."

The day has become hot and muggy, making for a miserable trek through the unexplored woodlands. The shade provided by the trees is an oasis from the hot sun, but the heat still pounds down, pressing through the leaves above.

The air itself is so replete with water that clothing clings to skin; holding on for dear life.

"Let's sit down for a bit," Emily suggests.

"Alright." I h ave been eager for an excuse to stop.

We both sit down on the trunk of a fallen tree. The wood has long ago began rotting, deteriorating from the elements of Mother Nature herself. The rotted wood, moist and cushiony makes for a comfortable seat to rest on.

"You tired?" I ask, stretching my legs.

"I'm getting there," she laughs. "I'm thirsty, though."

"Yeah, me too. We will probably pass a stream or something soon. Are you ready to keep walking?"

"Yup." She takes a slow, deep breath and quietly scans the immediate area. She exhales. "Let's go!"

We march ahead on our journey, and we walk into a thicker section of the woods. I stop and look around for an easy path through the trees and thicket. I quickly spot one and we continue through it.

"Hey… how was this path made?" Emily grills. "I mean… it isn't like the zombies could have made it. They don't walk this organized."

I stop for a moment and look at the path. On the ground, the grassy plants have been worn down to expose bare dirt. I realize that pathway is too direct, so it could not have been a zombie. Then, I notice faint tracks in the dirt.

"Emily, see these?" I kneel down and point at the tracks. The tracks are of a two-toed animal.

"What is it?"

"It looks like it might be a deer," I say.

"Wow… how do you know that?"

I stand up and continue walking. Emily follows. "I guessed by the path and tracks."

As we walk, Emily begins to hum. I keep walking and she continues to quietly hum a tune. Just by that sounds, it is obvious that she has a beautiful voice. I smile. The sound alone of her humming is enough to evermore brighten my mood. The tune makes me think of happy times, not sad ones filled with pain or sorrow… but ones filled with love and happiness.

Day 70: Afternoon

"Hey Adam, come here."

I walk over to Emily.

"Do you know what these are?" She asks.

"No…" I say, "What are they?"

"Potatoes!"

"Awesome," I laugh. "Maybe we can make a nice good stew again."

She kneels down and begins to dig with her hands. I join in, and within minutes, we have a rucksack full of red-skinned potatoes.

We begin to walk home, following the path we had used prior.

As we walk, I have time to think. My mind wanders when a thought breaks through the others − a simple thought. A thought questioning our existence… our purpose: "Why are we here, and how have we gotten our knowledge?" A simple thought, indeed. Nothing complex, but solely a through provoking question.

The question of how we know what we know has always been in the back of my mind. It honestly boggles me. There are a lot of things that I know, but don't know how I know them.

I suppose that life just works like that. You show up in some land with enough knowledge to survive and you live your life as you learn more.

But you must learn other skills− skills that aren't a necessity to survival.

"Adam?"

I look up from the ground. "Yeah?"

"We're home," She laughs.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize that we had walked that far.

We hurry inside and shut the gate and door.

"I am exhausted."

"Yeah, so am I," I agree. "I'm just going to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," She smiles. She leans in for a hug and I gratefully embrace her. I let go and walk off to my bed.

I undress myself and slide under the covers. I fall into sleep only seconds after I rest my head.

Day: Unknown

My eyes shoot open and I immediately begin to cough. I roll onto my side. My lungs feel full of fluid… so full that it is difficult and painful to breathe. I continue coughing and hacking in a desperate attempt to rid my lungs of the foreign substance.

A clear, thick fluid being to arise from my lungs, and I soon free myself of it. I continue to lie on my side, my lungs burning.

I look around and realize that I am in an alien place. Fog hovers above the ground, preventing me from seeing more than 20 or 30 feet.

I begin to hear a faint voice in the area. It sounds raspy and… oddly familiar. As it comes closer, I notice that it is singing a song. Quietly, slowly singing a song.

Unease sets in so I decide to stand up in case I need to protect myself. I can't move. I am paralyzed, plastered to the ground. Panic sets in. I don't know what to do, so I don't move. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure. It walks slowly, but with purpose. It has long, unkept hair. It wears what looks to be a robe, but old and worn. It is terribly difficult to see it, though.

As the figure comes closer, I can hear what it sings:

_Dormi, mi fili, dormi –_

_sunt qui dicunt_

_vitam beatam esse:_

_dicunt, dicant, nesciunt_

My understanding of simple Latin helps me immensely. I do not speak it well enough to correctly translate, but he says

"Lie, my dear, my son, lie down -

they are who they say

living a happy life;

they say, they say, they do not know"

The song is oddly familiar. I cannot shake the feeling that I have heard it somewhere.

It continues singing.

_Dormi, mi fili, dormi –_

_veniet dies_

_quo tibi erit_

_larga, largissima quies._

The second sentence is difficult to decipher.

"Lie, my dear, my son, lie down -

day will come

which you will be

and large, a very quiet."

It moves closer, continuing his song.

_Dormi, mi fili, dormi –_

_aderit mox_

_mihi, tum tibi_

_ultima, optima nox_

The third is even tougher to translate:

"Lie, my dear, my son, lie down -

will be here soon

me, then you

the final, the best night"

He moves closer and closer, but he is now out of my view.

The song is familiar. I know I have heard it somewhere.

He continues to walk, but now only humming.

I abruptly realize where I have heard the song. It was Emily. As we walked through the woods, she hummed the same song.

The figure's humming ceases and I feel warm, rasping breathing on the back of my neck. A shiver runs down my spine.

_ "Wake up."_

Day 71

My eyes shoot open and I sit up in bed, my back erect.

My whole body is shaking. My dreams… they become more realistic every time.

Every time I notice more. The chirps of birds, an odd aroma… I notice more and more with each dream.

And it makes them more believable.

More… _real._

I stand up and slowly stretch. I notice a deep ache within my muscles; they all ache. My neck, my back, my arms, legs… everything.

I touch my hand to my hair and notice that it is damp and cold, but I am not surprised. I had an odd dream… a _chilling _dream.

I clear my mind of all unsettling thoughts, compose myself, and walk upstairs.

I reach the top of the stairs and see Emily sitting on the edge of her bed, just woken up.

"Good morning," She smiles. "Are you all right." She stands up and walks over to me. "You're pale and drenched in sweat."

"Yeah, I'm alright. I just had a bad dream."

"Okay…" She has an obvious look of worry on her face. "Well, do we have anything planned for today?"

"I don't know," I respond. "I don't think there is anything too big. Maybe we could relax, clean our clothes, and polish up the place."

"Sounds like a fun day," She giggles "Would you like something to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. What do we have?"

"There is some leftover pork from earlier," She answers as she brings over two bowls of pork.

I wolf down the meal. "I'm going to head outside," I say, searching for my sword.

"Okay," she says, "Be safe."

I walk out the door and head toward the water. As I walk, I once again study the sword. I recently decided to call it by its given name, "Sacratus Lamina," but I call it "Sactratus."

I reach the water and turn right along the shoreline. I walk for another minute or so and set Sacratus on a rock in the sand. I look to my left to make sure that Emily had not followed.

She hasn't.

Not yet, at least.

I quickly strip off my clothing and wade into the water. I move farther into the water until it us almost up to my neck. I stand in the water, facing the shore. There is a large bolder protruding from the water 20 or so feet to my right.

I let out a deep breath and close my eyes. I listen to the pleasant singing of the birds. I listen to wind rustling the leaves. I simply listen to everything.

I open my eyes.

"Time to wash myself."

Bathing is tough without having anything to aid in scrubbing.

I peer over to the shoreline. "Crap." Emily is walking alone the water.

She is walking _toward_ me.

I wade over to the boulder and peer from behind. She approaches my sword and stops in her tracks. She then sees the clothing and looks around. "Well…" I think, "I guess she knows what I'm doing." I reveal myself from behind the boulder and cautiously wade closer to the shore.

"Whatcha doin'?" She asks, blushing and trying not to laugh.

"Would you… uh… would you mind turning around for a moment?"

She turns around and covers her face for me. I rush out of the water and, still soaking wet, put on my clothing. "I'm done."

She turns around and begins laughing.

"What's so funny?" I smile.

"Nothing," She continues to smile.

"If nothing is funny, then I think we should head back," I smirk.

We walk back to the house along the water's edge, Emily still holding back giggles.

Day 71: Midday

_Shing_

_ Shing_

_ Shing_

_ Shing_

I thrust the blade of the combat knife into the soft, rotting wood of the tree trunk I sit on. I turn the shaft of a sharpened spear over in my hand, admiring my handiwork.

_Snap_

My eyes widen and I jump around, instinctively bringing up my spear. I freeze, terrified. Behind a tree, about forty feet away, is white hair−or what looks like it. A few locks of white hair show.

I run over to the tree, taking caution to no make noise.

_Beat beat… beat beat… beat beat…_

My heart is racing, unknowing of what may happen.

Spear raised, I jump around the tree.

Nothing.

There is nothing hidden behind the tree. There is not even a plant, let alone a man, to offer an explanation for the "hair".

I roll my eyes. "Nothing," I say. "Nothing at…" I stop mid-sentence. On the soft ground behind the tree, is a footprint−a single, shoeless footprint.

"Great, now they come out at daytime, too." I look around with haste for any signs and walk back towards the house.

The birds seem to be chattier than usual, singing louder than they often do.

I soon arrive home and walk inside. "Look what I made!"

"What's that?" Emily asks.

"It's a spear. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to catch some fish for us to eat. I found a good spot to catch them earlier today."

"That's awesome! Are you going to try to catch some today?" She asks.

"Yeah, I was planning to. Why?"

"Because I will need to go find some herbs to put on the fish when we cook it."

"Sounds good, I'll be back in a few hours at the latest. I'm not sure how many I will catch, if I catch any at all."

"Okay, bye!" She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, and I hug her back.

She lets go and I smile and walk out the door, heading toward my new fishing spot.

Emily and I have been becoming closer. Although the changes have been terribly slow, I have noticed them. When we walk, she is closer to me. She smiles at me−often, too. She is hugging me more often than before; hugging me with more… _passion_. But her hugs… they will put me in a good mood no matter what the situation may be. The way she pulls me in and holds me tight makes me melt. I smile. This place may be dangerous, but it is home. And it is all we have got.

I jump over the trunk of a fallen tree. In an odd way, the tree can resemble us and our struggle to survive. Even though it was strong and broad, it was still able to collapse from its own conditions.

The other side of the fallen tree is lined with soggy moss. My feet sink into it up to my ankles.

"Aaurgh," I grunt. I steady myself on a rough, callused tree beside me and pull at my legs.

_Schloop_

_Schoop_

The moss releases my feet. I hastily shake them off and continue toward the fishing area. I maneuver between thick, green vines; I try not to allow then to move too much for fear that they may fall. Like the stinging tentacles of a jellyfish, I work to avoid them as they stream beneath their great body.

I break through the tree line and stand in a grassy clearing with a single, small lake in it. A small creek leads into it while another leads out. I close my eyes and listen. I forget my problems. I forget my worries. I forget everything and simply listen to everything. It is a simple way to relax, but still my favorite.

A large toad croaks by the water as it rests on a rock, inspecting two mockingbirds as they sing. They sing their happy song, chirping and chattering away at each other.

A vulture flies overhead, slowly circling the area, possibly waiting for an animal, its meal, to die. A vulture will circle its meal for hours on end, simply waiting. They circle, circle, and circle. They are a smart creature, and resourceful, too. They will eat a dead animal instead of allowing it to go to waste.

The vulture swoops down into the trees nearby, preparing to feast on the rotting flesh of a fallen creature.

I stride forward into the sunlight, spear at hand. I close my eyes, smile, and inhale. Somewhere close by, honeysuckle is flowering. Its aroma fills the air. Again, I walk forward towards the pond

I choose the largest of the rocks, the one jutting into the shallow waters. I peer into the water. Several fish slowly move through the water, unaware of their impending death.

I hear a splash and see a frog swimming through the water.

I smile. The combination of everything here… the sun, the pond, the smell… it is almost enough to make me forget about the horrors which bare their faces at night. It is horrible. I have trouble with coming to terms with how they look. Their sunken, rotten faces are revolting. Clumps of skin will sometimes hang swinging side to side as they walk. And the maggots… they eat away at them. They like to start at the eyes. They are soft and plump, perfect for easy eating. Their smell is almost unbearable. The combination of blood and rotting flesh will make me want to vomit.

The part about them that bothers me the most is the way that they react… or don't react. They move aimlessly. They could walk for days, slowly shuffling their feet. They keep walking until they see, or hear, something that interests them. Then, they turn and continue walking. Some of them don't seem to notice when I take their arm off with my sword. Some of them will react, though. I have noticed that they all do not act the same. Some of them will move aimlessly, but others act curious. They might look around occasionally. The one in combat gear that attacked me with a sword, the one that almost killed me, was agile. It was able to move fairly quickly, and even hurt me, all while wielding a sword. It is almost like they are not all entirely brain-dead. It is like some of them are still helplessly clinging to the memories or abilities of whom they once were.

I shut my eyes tight, shake my head, and take a deep breath.

"They are just more complicated than they look."

I crouch on the rock and hold my spear, letting out a deep sigh, waiting to see a larger fish.

I continue crouching until I see a fish, almost a foot and a half in length.

"Here we go." I jab the spear at the fish, hitting it in its midsection. It thrashes, scared and angry, attempting to free itself. I pick it out of the water and set it onto the rock, pulling the spear out and send a rock crashing down on its head in a single, fluid movement. "One down, two to go," I mumble.

I crouch back down on the rock, waiting. Minutes pass by as I listen to the singing of birds.

The minutes soon turn into an hour, and an hour into two. I soon give up on attempting to spear another fish and stand up.

As I am about to leave with the only fish that I have caught, I hear a rustling coming from inside the tree line.

"Maybe we will be having some rabbit tonight," I smile.

I grab my spear and run to the edge of the clearing, peering into the trees. Close trees and bushes make it difficult to see deep enough into the trees; I walk into the woods.

The air shifts, becoming cold and damp as I walk into the woods. I search for almost fifteen minutes when I begin to head back to the clearing.

_Snap_

I spin around in time so see a zombie hurdling towards me, tackling me to the ground. This one is very overweight. Blood and foam drip from its mouth and onto my face as it pins me on the ground. It has the same lifeless look in it eyes that the all have. The expressionless face alone makes me uneasy. It leans forward but I grab its neck as it bites at the air near my neck. This one, however, is stronger – much stronger. It pushes forward, inching towards my neck. With the last of my strength, I push it off and crawl to my spear. I pick up the spear and turn around with hardly enough time to spare. I push the spear into its mouth and push, giving off a crunch from the zombie's mouth. With its head still impaled, I force the spear into the ground, pinning him in place.

I hurry back over to the rock limping, and pick up the fish. I limp back in the direction of the house, clutching my only trophy of the day.

They should not be out during the day…

Day 71: Afternoon

The scent of cooked fish and garlic fills the house. Emily tends to the fish, occasionally flipping it, as I massage my sore ankle. On my trek home, my foot caught on the edge of a raised root. With a crunch from my ankle, I was send sprawling onto the ground, only to finish my journey with a painful limp.

"How is your leg?"

"My ankle," I smile, "Will be fine. I'll just need to take it easy for now."

"I guess we don't need to do anything _too_ strenuous," She says with a smirk. "Oh, and when you were gone, I decided to walk around to see what I could find to cook." She continues to tend to the sizzling fish as she speaks. "I got lucky and found a large nest with several eggs in it."

"Great!" I smile. "When do we plan on eating them?"

"I already cooked them, so we will be eating them any time now," She says, smirking again.

The constant buzzing and chirping grows louder as the sun falls. The sound fills the house, even penetrating my bedroom. "I think I'm going to go outside for a short while."

"Okay, just be back in five minutes."

I hurry outside and through the gate. The house had me uneasy. For whatever reason, I only need fresh air. I sit down and lean against the fence, enjoying the remaining daylight. The wind pushes through the trees, shaking the branches and almost freeing the leaves of their grip. Sometimes, I wish that I would be able to escape from this world and travel to one where there was nothing scary... a world where I do not need to always check over my shoulder…

"Adam! Dinner is ready."

I hoist myself onto my feet and rest my head against the fence. I sigh, wishing for a way for me to escape to a better world. I open the gate and walk back towards the house.

Day 82

Three days.

For three whole days it has been raining, and the third day has just now started.

The constant pattering of the rain persists as the minutes blend into hours and then days, creating a mood that would drive any man into a fit of tear-filled rage. The rain downs out all other noises, muffling them under its thunderous roar.

The remaining wood has run low, food is scarce, and Emily has been gone for what feels like ages, but could just as easily be thirty minutes.

Two days… or was it three or even four? The hours have melted into each other as I drift in and out of sleep. With every blink I move from dream to dream. Some entail heroic journeys and quests while others lack in excitement.

I soon drift back into sleep, but my dream is different. I am still sitting in my chair and the rain still spills from the skies. However, something is off. I scan the room, but everything seems to be of the norm. My eyes trace the walls, but I again find nothing out of place. I begin to feel tired and turn around in the chair and I am greeted face-to-face with the same withered figure from my dreams. I fall to the ground with a yell and scamper to the opposite wall. I face the window, but the figure is nowhere in sight. Only seconds before a drenched figure reeking of death, yet smelling of nothing had been staring through the window,

I shake my head and close my eyes. "It was just a dream," I repeat. "It was just a dream."

The door bursts open, welcoming in a surge of icy wind as I cower further into the corner, but I am relieved as Emily walks in. Drenched in water, she stands beside the fire and looks around the room.

She spots me sitting in the corner, shrouded in a shadow, and smiles. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"I… I just sat down," I respond as I pull myself to my feet with the help of the wall. "Where did you go?

She wrings out her hair. "Sorry. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. I just went to bathe." Water drips from Emily, creating a small pool at her feet. She grumbles. "When do you think this storm will finally let up?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly. I walk over to and rummage through box of cloth and clothing that we had recently compiled and washed. I find a large tattered piece and toss it to Emily. "Here you go," I chirp.

"Thank you." She runs the cloth across her arms and legs before wrapping her hair in it. No longer dripping, she sorts through the box of clothing. "You'll never guess what I saw outside today."

"I'll bet you're right," I laugh. "What did you see?"

"A goat!"

"Really? Was it a male?"

"Yeah, I think it was. I only got a glimpse at him since he was running by, but it had horns."

"It sounds like he doesn't like the rain too much either."

She giggles. "Yeah, it looked like it." She stands up with two wadded up pieces of cloth, one in each hand.

She begins to pull her dress over her head. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and look away.

"Oh come on, man up!" She laughs. "We live with each other and I don't think that is going to be changing, so I think you'll need to get used to this."

She continues to towel herself off, but I still sit uncomfortably. I look away but she is still visible from the side of my view. She throws her towel against the wall and unravels the second piece of cloth from the box. She holds a pale-yellow sun dress. She throws is over her shoulders before looking in my direction.

"You can look back now," She says. "Or you can keep sneaking peeks." She giggles.

I blush. I stand up and walk to the fire, still unnerved by my dream. With the rain came sudden and sporadic bursts of icy wind, and my fingertips were beginning to feel its wrath. The flames dance across the charred wood, crackling as I warm my hands. I sigh. The rain persists in its journey to make me miserable.

Emily walks to my side. "What do you think?"

"It is a lovely dress." I hesitate. "You look beautiful in it."

She turns away, attempting to hide her face in embarrassment. "Thank you," she whispers. She lightly places her hand atop my own and smiles

I cannot help but smile. Even in a gloomy setting, the company of Emily is enough to erase it. The pattering of the rain paired with the crescendo of thunder filter out all noise but that of the fire. During this storm, we live in a cocoon. Impervious to the storm, Emily and I stand hand-at-hand.

Day 91

By the time that the rain had finally stopped, pools of water dotted the land, only to seep back into the soil days later.

Eight days. For eight days it rained… or at least Emily says it was. The days had just begun to meld into a single, torturous period when I noticed that with the thick clouds overhead, almost no light penetrated to the surface. The dim-lighted skies gave the feeling that it was in a constant twilight.

After the skies cleared and the water subsided, we were lucky enough to have found an abundance of food that had drown from the chaos unleased by the storm. We were able to collect scallions, thyme, silphium, berries, and potatoes that were bloated and split from the water. Even now, we continue to feast on our sweet treasures, no longer needing to worry of whether or not game is available.

After the run-in with that demonic creature in my dreams, I freed myself from the trance elicited from the storm… or at least for a while. Through that short period of time, I focused solely on creating tools. With the feathers Emily had found in a bird's nest I constructed half of a dozen of simplistic arrows, but the shafts were difficult to find. I ran outside, fighting the wind and rain, only to come across a small handful of eligible sticks. Meticulously, I sheared away slivers of wood until I had the ideal shaft. Then, I repeated. I only now need to find the correct rock for the head… and construct the bow.

After my spree of construction, I began to fall back into my trance where I fell in and out of sleep, none of which were restful. I felt like an insomniac as the days began to meld back together.

Now, Emily is outside planting the seeds of various plants that we had found. I only hope that it will postpone our need for hunting even longer.

Day 112

The overhead screeching of some unseen animal fills the air, fighting for power over all other noises. A new flower has recently begun to bloom. They find a way to grow throughout even the harshest of conditions. They grow in trees, in the water-laden swaps up north, and even in the thickest of the forest where even light has trouble venturing in. It's pungent yet beautiful aroma and translucent purple leaves make for an unusually noticeable plant.

"My foot is killing me," Emily blurts out.

"Here," I gesture to a nearby boulder. "Let's sit down."

The boulder, almost seven feet in length and width, is oddly smooth… and in a very unusual spot. The boulder perches at the peak of a small hill. I laugh. Nature finds a way, I suppose.

After a few minutes of resting, Emily pipes up. "I think I'm ready," She smiles.

"Okay, I'm just going to double check that we have all of our supplies."

"It's a little btt late for that. Don't you think? We've already been walking for at least two hours."

"Yeah, I know," I respond. "I just feel like I need to make sure. You know, in case we run into any trouble."

"Okay, okay. Go ahead and go over your little list." She giggles, sending me her usual grin.

I peer into my rucksack. Inside I have a combat knife, several cooked potatoes, a slab of cooked meat, and a coat. Tethered to the outside of my pack is an axe, dulling from use, and Sacratus.

"I've got what I need. What do you have."

She grumbles before removing her own back from her back. "Potatoes, meat, a jacket, a shovel, and a sword. Can we go now?"

I nod and we continue marching forward on the overgrown deer path.

Day 112: Afternoon

After our exhausting trek of almost seven hours we finally reach an area sufficient enough to build our small outpost. With it there, we will be able to venture further in the future.

Our construction site is one of the only nearby areas with an opening in the canopy. In the center of the small opening is an almost too convenient hole in the ground measuring about four by seven feet and stretching another four feet into the ground.

"So, tell me again. How are we planning on making a shelter out of this?" She gibes

"Well," I retort, "You'll need to make that hole as close to a box shape as you can and I'll start to look for thick branches to bring back.

With that, I set out on my search.

I only walk a short distance before I stumble into a large branch with a diameter of a foot. Upon inspection, I notice that it is old and very light.

"Excellent," I mumble. I promptly chop it off at eight feet and begin to drag it back to the soon-to-be outpost.

I stumble into the clearing to see that Emily has been making noticeable progress. I drag the log up to the hole and drop it with a hollow thump.

"When you finish digging that, Could you dig down about one foot around the edges so I can rest these logs in them?"

"Yeah, no problem," She says, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "How long does it need to be?"

"Two feet," I say. "Two feet on each side."

Day 112: Evening

_No no no no no._

I shuffle across the forest floor, half dragging and half carrying a log. Day and night fight for control over the sky, and night is beginning to win. The rustling of leaves only hurries me even more. I break into the clearing.

"Adam! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay! Hurry, they're following me!" I scream, but it only comes out as an inaudible slurry of words.

She lifts the other end of the log and runs with me over the shelter. I ready myself to set the final log into place on the roof of the shelter. "Jump in," I yell. I follow in after her, carefully lowering the last log into place.

I lay on by back, my chest rising and falling. "We did it," I say between breaths.

"I know," she smirks. "But what took you so long?"

"It just took me a long time to find one that was the right size and wasn't too hard to carry."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

"You know I don't have the heart to leave you like that," I laugh.

A lullaby, the roar of the cicadas gently rocks me towards sleep, but I am awoken by something touching my shoulder. I almost yell out, but I notice what it is. Emily rests her head on my shoulder, already fast asleep.

Day 113

"Come on, Emily… lets go," I grumble.

I sit on the top of our shelter, still waiting for Emily to return from relieving herself.

"Let's get a move on," She says, forcing a stern face, but her cheery self still shines through.

We march forward into the dark tree line, leaving our outpost in our wake. We will eventually get further use of it, but only once we decide to come back and venture further into unknown territory.

"Tell me again," I yell back to Emily, "Why are we hiking further instead of going home?"

"Why not?" She laughs.

"Because," I dig for a hard reason, but come up short. "Never mind."

Even with my back turned to her I can sense her triumphant smile boring into the back of my head.

I maneuver between thick vines and low-hanging branches, but a force pulls me backward.

"Adam," She whispers, "Be quiet."

Still surprised from being pulled backward, I send her a blank stare, but she is looking into the distance. I trace her line of sight across the forest surveying each tree, bush, and boulder until I see what she watches. Only fifty feet away stands the most terrifying of all creatures. Its pale, hairless body is shrouded in scars and is lined with a row of long, pointed spikes along its spine. On all fours, it silently opens and closes its mouth, struggling to enclose its countless teeth. Its dog- like head could crush my body with ease.

"Kidaju," She whispers. "We need to leave. Now."

She had no need to tell me to leave. Before she finishes the sentence I am already crawling to the refuge of a boulder. "Ready?" I whisper.

She nods.

We inch ourselves along the ground until we are sure that we are clear out of the kidaju's sight, but we remain silent as we walk for a short while.

I decide to break the silence. "Thank you, Emily. That was close."

She smiles. "No problem. Just watch where you're going next time."

"I would've hated to have run into one of those. I don't think I would have run ten feet before it would be on top of me."

"Yeah, I know. Did you see its teeth? It looked like somebody tried to cram twice as many in as there should be."

"Yeah, I did," I laugh. "But I think the worst part is that they would probably start eating you before you'd have the luck of dying."

" Especially if it's one of them that has the saliva that will dissolve your skin," She respond. "Oh, and can we stop back at our outpost? I forgot my shovel."

Icy chills run throughout my body from the thought of being seen by the vile creature. "Of course," I say with my mind still occupied of the possible horrors which we may have faced if it were not for her.

Day 113

After every journey we make, I feel as if I would be able to sleep for days. Walking long distances just exhausts me, I guess.

Emily glances at me. "You okay?"

A few hours ago, the ground gave in, giving me the luck of falling in waist deep. It feels like I tore a muscle. I _know_ that I tore a muscle, and it isn't minor; I'm having trouble walking. "I'll be fine. Let's just hurry back."

"Okay, we're almost there."

The sharp pain on my inner thigh gnaws at me, urging me to collapse onto the ground and give up. But I refuse the tempting offer even though my head screams at me to comply… but I will only rest when I am in the safety of our house, not out here.

"We're here," She says, putting her arm around me. "Come on; let's get inside before you find another way to hurt yourself."

She pulls open the door and gestures inside. I scuttle in, excited to have a safe place to rest. I collapse into the chair, pull off my shoes, and begin massaging the knots out of my feet. "I'm glad to have that over with," I laugh. "What were those plants that you found on the way back?"

"Nothing too exciting. It was just some celery."

I smile. "Not exciting? Everything new to eat is exciting!"

"I guess you're right. Oh! I almost forgot! I also dug up some pretty flowers that I found growing."

"Can I see them?"

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a single, aqua flower. Its seven oval leaves branch from an even more vivid shade of blue. "Here you go."

"It's beautiful," I respond before wafting the smell to my nose. " And it smells just as wonderful."

"I know! I'm going to plant them later this evening before it becomes too dark outside. I think they'll look nice along the inside of the fence."

I nod, but my mind wanders and becomes occupied with other matters. More questions of the zombies flood my head. I have not yet stopped wondering where they have come from and why they live. The largest question has only recently sprouted: Why have they not been near the house lately?

"Adam… Adam!"

"Huh… what? I'm listening."

"I said, 'I think we'll need to cut more wood soon. We only have a few logs left inside and the pile outside is shrinking."

"Will do. I'll see if I can get started on that tomorrow."

"Sounds great. I think I'm going to take a nap."

"Sweet dreams," I smile.

As she climbs into bed, I decide to go outside. I open the door, unlatch the gate and walk outside. On my first step, I hear an unusual squish and my foot sinks into the ground. I look down and see that I have stepped on the cap of a large, brown fungus.

"That's weird," I mumble, and take another few steps forward before I step on another fungus. "What...?" I look around to discover that the entire immediate area is riddled with these small fungi and are all well camouflaged. \

The mysterious fungi grow along the ground, on the trees, and even along the sides of the fence. Its slimy and spongy texture rules out the idea of eating it.

"How haven't we noticed this before? It must be new," I speak to myself. "And it's everywhere."

Then, it hits me. "Maybe this is the root of why the zombies haven't come close to the house lately," I say. "Maybe they don't like it."

Proud of my ability to draw the conclusion, I strut back through the gate and into the house. I turn to inform Emily of my discovery, but I notice that she has already fallen into sleep. Instead, I shrink into my own room and lie onto my bed.

"Now," I mumble, "If we will be able to move those fungi or even plant new ones, we can 'zombie-proof' this whole area."

My mind continues to race with the possibility of an anti-zombie fungus. Maybe could even eat it and somehow the zombies would avoid us, but there is too much room for something to go wrong. I still don't know if it is poisonous, so we'll just attempt to plant is instead.

Content with my game changing discovery and its applications, I melt into my bed, allowing the cocoon of blankets to nestle me to sleep.

Day 114

"Come on, Emily! It'll just take a minute. Trust me; you'll like this."

She sighs. "Okay, okay. Just make it quick."

I rush outside and stand by the fence waiting, shaking with excitement. She emerges after a minute. "Look!" I yell, pointing at the ground.

She looks at the ground for a while then looks back to me. "Look at what? Are you feeling okay?"

"Look at the ground," I repeat. "See all of the fungi?" Again, I gesture towards the ground, waving my arms wildly like a madman. "Look, it's growing everywhere. On the trees, on the ground, on the fence… everywhere."

"I see it," she says. "But what are you trying to prove? It's just some weird looking fungi."

"I noticed it yesterday, so it needs to be new… no older that a few days," I explain. "A week at most."

"And?"

"And, a few days ago, the zombie stopped coming close to the house." I grin, waiting for her response.

"So you're trying to say that it acts as some type of zombie repellant? Even if it is, they'll eventually die like all plants do."

I frown, feeling as if I have been shot down. "Well," I begin. "Why not use it while we can? We should at least try planting it around a larger area other that our house. Even if it doesn't work, it's not like the others will all die."

She sighs again and bites her lower lip before look up at me. "I don't see why not," She says. "But you're still crazy for thinking that they're the force behind the zombies not coming near. But, you still have some wood to collect." She smiles, swivels on her heel, and strides away to tend to her garden.

With my leg still sore, I limp between the trees in search of loose timber. Each step is a well-placed note, gradually bringing me closer and closer to a full stack of wood. I pile them onto my arms, place them on the stack, and repeat. The stack begins to take shape, growing with every log and stick placed upon it.

Day 117

_Death_. Death is all that came of the plan of planting more of the mysterious fungus. We are lucky, but luck is a relative term. In some ways, we are lucky because the fungus was the only thing to have been graced with death. We have come to the general conclusion that they shared the same root system, and the harming of the fungus, the removal of small pieces, offset the plant. But if so, it would mean that they are not fungi, so we remain clueless.

At first, only a few plants, the ones we touched, began to show weakening. Soon after, they had rotted and the other untouched plants began to show the same signs.

Now, the night air is filled with the moans and screeches of the undead men and women, and we hope that it will soon go back to normal…. that they will no longer bother with the intrusive fence.

Day 120

"You're right; this was a good idea."

The cool, salty breeze blows through Emily's walnut hair as she sits in the rock-strewn sand. The leaves shake, the birds sings, and the waves cresting in the distance…. All coming together, making a melody too sweet for any man to resist.

"Let's get in." She stands up and smiles while slowly backing toward the water, gesturing for me to follow.

"It is about time," I laugh. I pull myself to my feet and chase in after.

We slowly wade through the almost motionless water, attempting not to sink into the mud-like ground. We stop at about chest depth.

"This was _definitely_ a good idea." She swims behind me, but I can still feel where she is. She reaches over my shoulder and holds onto me as if giving me a half-hearted hug. "You know," She says. "We cou−… ow!"

"What?"

"Nothing… I just stepped on something sharp."

"Let's see what it was." I dive under the water, caressing the bottom in search of the object until I feel the end of my breath nearing. I soon find it and break the surface with a gasp for air.

"Did you find it?" She looks at me, searching for it.

"Yes," I say, pulling my hand out of the water. I glance back up to her and smile. "It's an oyster."

"An oyster? How much is in the shell?"

"A bit," I respond. "We should look for more. It'd be an appreciated change of diet." I sink back under the surface and Emily follows after. I scrounge the floor for anything that resembles and oyster, but I break the surface empty handed.

Emily resurfaces and gasps for breath, her hair strewn across her face. She pushes her hair back and smile, holding up her hand. "Two."

"Awesome! Can you look for more while I open them?"

She nods and I scuttle back to the shore before dropping the three shellfish on a large rock. Eating shellfish will be a change in pace, and a good one too. I retrieve a small, palm sized rock from the woods and return to the oysters, prepared to retrieve the meat. I palm the rock and hit it against the first of the oysters. The third strike obliterates the top portion of the shell, allowing me to pull out the meat.

"Adam!" The water splashes at her feet as she runs to me. "Four more!"

"I'll be right back." I stand up. "I'm going to grab a knife." I dart away and into the trees, jumping left and right to avoid crashing into them. I reach the house and hurry inside to reclaim the knife from the makeshift chest. I find the knife and bolt back outside. prepared to retrieve the tasty meal.

I kneel back onto the gavel laced sand and grab another oyster. I pierce the knife through the seal of the two halves of the shells and thrust downward before twisting the knife, allowing me to reach the inside. With my index and middle finger, I scoop out the flesh, but I feel a foreign mass on the inside. I locate it and carefully pull it out. In my hand I stare at a small, cream colored pearl.

I look behind me to assure myself that Emily had not seen my discovery, but she is still searching for oysters. Running back to the house would be suspicious, so I carefully rest the pearl into my pocket.

I return to my task of cracking open the shells and retrieving the meat, slowly moving through my pile of oysters. I reach for the final one when Emily appears at my side, almost scaring me into falling over.

"How is it going?" She peers over my shoulder, admiring the oyster meat

I put my hand over my pocket; it seems as if she knows of what I have found. "Well," I respond. I push the knife into the remaining oyster. "Maybe we will have enough to make a stew. It will be a much needed change of pace with our meals." I scoop out the meat and put it on the pile with the others.

"It does sound delicious. I'll see if I can find some herbs and some –"

A plump brown bird explodes from the bushes, squawking as it flees in terror from the woods. Emily falls backward into the sand in her effort to avoid the feathery outburst.

She stands to her feet and laughs. "That was a surprise."

The sound of leaves crunching diverts our attention back to the trees. I hold my index finger to my lips, motioning to be quiet, but Emily bolts into the woods. I swivel on my heel and chase after her. I break into the tree line and see a scrawny figure in a walnut robe attempting to escape. A single feature almost makes me stop dead in my tracks: To its shoulder blades hangs an unkempt mass of white hair. I am still unsure of who this person is or what they may be capable of. Fearing for Emily, I sprint faster than before. I near Emily and join her side in chasing the figure.

"Up ahead," I force the words out between grueling breaths. "Split up… around the rocks. You follow him left. I go right… catch him on the other side."

She nods and I break off to the right-hand side. Separating us is a large, rocky mesa with vertical walls stretching almost thirty feet into the sky. I push forward, putting one leg in front of the other, dodging trunks and hurdling over bushes and fallen trees. With each step I see the end of the mesa nearing and feel closer to capturing . I break through the tree line and pass the end of the mesa poised with my arms and dagger readied, but the figure is nowhere to be seen. I slow down and come to a halt in search of the missing person. Emily sees me and stops running before meeting me.

"Where did it go?" I wheeze.

She crouches and sits onto a fallen branch before responding. "I… I don't know. He ran behind some rocks, but when I got there he was gone." Her heavy breathing interrupts her muffled sentences. "Like he just disappeared…"

"We need to get back to the house; I don't think we should be out here right now." I scour the area, but there are no signs that he has been near. There are no footprints in the mud, no broken branches from his fleeing attempt… there is nothing.

"Should I come with you to get the oyster meat?"

I frown. I had forgotten about the meat. "No, I'll be fine. Do you know which way the house is?" She nods, turns her back to me, and begins to walk. I turn back to the water and head back. I shuffle my feet in a half jog, half walk motion in an attempt to hurry myself to the ocean. I reach the sand and walk to the rock where I had cleaned the shells. I retrieve a smaller rock and scoop the meat onto it.

The unease in the pit of my stomach grows. I cannot help but feel as if something is watching me… its eyes boring into the back of my skull. I finish mounding the meat and cradle the knife in my clammy palm. I walk for a moment before the sound of a breaking twig send me scurrying back to the house.

Day 151

"Come on… just one more step." I trace a large-racked hart, the head of its herd, with the translucent tip of an obsidian arrow. His monstrous antlers lessen the difficulty of tracking him.

His torso is protected by the gnarled trunk of an old, broad-leafed tree, but I train my arrow on the kill zone: slightly above and behind its shoulder. He lowers his head and resumes feasting on the low lying foliage but spots what can only be a more alluring meal another yard ahead. After his first step forward, he freezes. His ears perk up and he looks directly in my direction.

"Too late." I loosen my grip on the arrow and send it hurdling toward the hart. The arrow ends its journey with a soft _thump_ as the hart releases a screech – a plea for help. It runs another thirty feet before crumpling to the ground and I hook the bow over my shoulder before sprinting through the trees to the side of the collapsed body. Its chest rises and falls faster than what seems possible and a look of terror fills its widened eyes. "I'm sorry," I whisper. At this point, the only thing I can do is to let it die on its own.

I stand and walk away from the body to allow it peace in the short time it has left. I crouch onto a nearby rotted tree trunk and bury my face into my dirt caked hands. I never liked killing, and the opinion remains strong, but I am good enough at it that the jobs falls upon my shoulders, now Emily's. It has occurred to me that it is necessary for the killing… that I should not feel the guilt, but those facts have not fazed my emotions.

I stand and begin to meander back to the hart's body. I reach it and see that its chest, once racing, is now a still, lifeless pelt. I frown. "Let's just make the best of this." I reveal the dagger from my pocket and weigh it in my hand. I crouch beside the motionless body and notice the harts alarming size. In any circumstance where I could stand beside him, he would tower over me. The hind leg alone will give me trouble in hauling it back to the house for butchering. I decide to begin with the legs and thrust the blade into the base of its hind leg before beginning to saw and tear through muscle and tendons. I finish separating the flesh from the body and stand up with the ankle still at hand. I plant my right foot on the pelvis and left on the ground and pull, freeing the leg from the body.

I stand for a moment and listen to the clamor of the birds. It astonishes me how such a horrid place can be masked in the daylight by the beauty of its own nature. With the rotted bodies roaming the land, it seems that there is no place for beauties such as the flowers, birds… and even Emily. Even she seems out of place here.

I clamp my eyes and shake my head. It is too much to take in… too much to comprehend. Words cannot simply describe my emotions toward this land… this bittersweet land. A groan escapes from my lips as I toss the severed limb over my shoulder. I begin my short walk back to the house, still listening to the cantering of the unseen birds as they live there normal lives. My jealousy of their lives is difficult to put into words. They need not to fret the dangers that we face. Throughout the day they sing and eat the fruit from the highest of the trees and the plump berries from the bushes.

I reach the fence encircling the house and set the leg beside the nearby tree stump that has been serving well as a table to butcher meat atop. An amber-red stain covers the stump from the pooling and soaking of blood, while several flies scour it… feasting on it. I back away from the bloodied stump and pass through the gate and into the house.

"Hey Emily, make sure to stoke the fire."

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"We've got new food," I smile. "Venison. We'll need to dry smoke a bunch of it so it'll keep." I trudge back toward the stump and heave the severed leg atop it. "This will be fun," I murmur.

Day 154

"Adam?" Emily questions. "Which direction do you thing we should we explore this time?"

Soon after the butchering of the hart, we had decided that it could only benefit us to explore into areas that are currently unknown to us. For what we know, there could easily be new and beneficial plants, animals, and the possibility of finding something entirely new and alien to us still remains. We hope to discover anything that will help us, whether it be for food or even medicine.

"Well, we already hiked south," I explain. "And I already know that the northern territory is largely made of swamplands… so I suppose that the only way we have yet to explore is west of here."

"West?"

"Past the rock faces where we chased that… person."

Her lips curl into a frown and I can see that she is upset. "What happens if we see it again?"

"We'll have the swords with us," I explain. "I'll keep you safe. Are you ready?" She nods. I retrieve my pre-packed rucksack and grab my sword from the chest. As Emily does so, I take the time to sit down and rest. It has been too long since we have had the time to spend a day relaxing.

"Ready?" She asks.

"Yes, let's go." I spring to my feet and follow Emily out the door.

Day 154: Midday

"It's huge…"

We stand at the base of a monstrous tree that has carefully grown into a twisted knot of branches. Its uppermost branch stretches into the sky, far above the canopy of all other trees. Cracked, brown leaves cling to the tips of the gnarled, spiny braches, but most have already lost their battle against nature.

"Come one," I prod. "We need to go. We haven't that much time to waste.

Grumbling at my haste, she follows after me. "Why are we even walking anymore? We haven't found anything and everything is the same as at our house. There are just trees, bushes, and some rock formations."

She is right; however, I cannot shake the feeling that we should continue our exploration. Suppressing the itch for exploration is a difficult task. "We'll find something eventually," I assure her, even though I am no longer sure that the chance of finding something of value remains.

Braches snap backwards and rustle as I pass through them, but the sound of crunching leaves and sliding brings my attention to the bushes on my right. I turn my head to Emily who shoots me a worried look. I nod, conforming that I also heard the mysterious noise. Before I can turn back to the noise, the head of a snake protrudes from a low-lying bush and into the beaten down deer path.

She mouths the word "kill" and raises her sword, but I shake my head. There is no need to harm it, unless it was to harm us. The snake soon continues forward and slithers off of the pathway, allowing us to continue our own journey.

"That's a first," She says, smiling at me. "I haven't seen one of those yet."

"Neither have I," I add. "But there are likely more yet to come."

Several minutes pass by before Emily chimes back in. "Let's take a break up her by the rocks. You know we could both use one."

I agree with her and approach the front of the rock face, similar to the one where we had chased the unknown figure. Leaves crunch under my weight as I collapse onto the ground at bottom of the cliff. Emily sits onto a boulder in front of a clump of hanging moss and vines, also at the base of the cliff. Aromas from nearby bushes comfort me and grant my eyes their well needed rest. After the nonstop hiking through the day, my legs have become weary and the restless night before has caught up with me.

"Ew!" Emily yells.

I open my eyes to see Emily swatting at a spider above her head. She swings again, but loses her balance and falls backward, disappearing into the moss "Emily!" I spring forward and jump onto the boulder before pushing through the vines and into a small opening behind. "Are you okay?"

She stands; slack jawed, she stares at a small door resting on dark, iron hinges "Look," She mumbles.

I push past her and lift on the handle, gaining access the room inside. The room is small, but inside is a bed, a workbench, a table, and a desk. The floor shakes as we stumble into the room, but it feels oddly well built.

"This is… its… amazing," Emily proclaims. "Do you think that somebody really lived here?"

"Not any time recent. There's too much dust on everything." I spot a small, leather bound journal resting on the desk. I walk to the desk and notice that the book had been made by hand. Faded, uneven pages fill the book and compliment the poorly bound spine. I take the journal into my hand and begin the skim through the torn and brittle pages. Not a single page has enough room for an additional entry. Countless sentences cram themselves into the small pages, rendering the already faded words close to illegible.

"Adam… look at this." She stands to the right of the door, beside the work bench and holds a small mace. Two feet in length, it has a sharpened metal head consisting of five blades and a small spike protruding from the top.

"It's a mace," I say. "Do you think they'll notice its absence?" I joke.

"Of course not." She laughs.

My attention is drawn back to the tattered journal. Words of Latin were the only ones used, but I still am able to decipher several key phrases. "You need to see this," I call to Emily, and she joins my side.

"What's that? What does it say?"

"It's a journal," I explain. "It must have belonged to whoever once lived here. It's faded and written in Latin, but I can still read parts."

"Does it say anything interesting?"

"Some things, yes." I flit to the beginning half of the book. "I can only read fragments. Here, it says 'by the arising of the revenants'.

"That's weird… what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not even sure that I have translated it correctly." I continue. "And here, it says 'subjects all excel, even with'. Everything else seems to be random or unimportant. Whoever wrote it mentions 'home' as distant a lot and writes about the weather a lot."

"Sounds boring," She remarks. "And that is all?"

"That's all."

"I think we should leave, then. I don't feel well."

"Okay, I think you're right." A wave of relief rushes through me. I am glad that Emily wanted to leave. In here, I cannot shake the feeling of eyes boring into me. "Let's go." I follow her steps past the doorway and push through the vines and moss which cover the secret entrance to the workplace. We climb back over the boulder, but I stop before I reach to top. Twilight has already fallen upon the land, and we are not close to the house.

"Adam…"

"We need to run," I say. "Now."

Before I have time to reach the top of the boulder, Emily bolts in the direction from which we came. Sword at hand, I sprint after her and soon catch up.

"Emily… we don't need to run this fast," I say between my heavy breaths. "Just jog." She complies and we continue our hastened journey home.

"Adam, behind us." She points behind us to several zombies who have joined us on our hustle. They shuffle both spasmodically and metrically as they attempt to match their pace with ours, and gain on us.

How are they moving that fast? They shouldn't be moving that fast…

"Just keep moving," I pant. "We need to hurry." My steps and breathing soon fall into a rhythmic pattern.

_Step Step Breathe Step Step Breathe…_

Growling and moaning redirects my attention back behind me, and I see that there are now twice as many zombies as there had been before. Six zombies trail behind us and their number slowly grow until they outnumber us by sixfold.

We approach familiar land and I run forward after motioning Emily to hurry as well. I sprint around the edge of a rock formation, but my foot catches as sends me on a painful journey to the ground. Bloodied and covered in dirt, my knees throb and I wince as I pull myself to my aching feet, but again stop half way. What I had tripped over was not a rock and was not a root.

A pale, dark haired man sits in a crumble where I had tripped and a thin blonde woman kneels at his side.

Emily rounds the corner and stumbles over the man just as I had. For several moments, we all gape at each other in amazement. We exchange worried glances, but the silence remains constant.

Emily breaks that silence. "Come on! This way," she yells before disappearing back into the trees.

Day 154: Night

Shrill screeches and shrieks pry through the fence and into the silent house, resonating across the walls. I sit distressed by the thought that only a thin layer of wood, some of it rotted to the point of generous pliability, separates us from being devoured by the putrid corpses who lurk in the refuge of the night.

"Come inside, Adam." Emily leans her head through the door, wearing her anxiety on her face. "We have guests that likely have a story of their own to tell."

I back away from the whicker barrier only to walk through another. Though, this one provides the comfort and safety of a home. Upon spotting the young, tongue-tied couple collapsed into the corner, clinging to each other, I notice a look in their eyes. Knowledge, or comprehension, at least, shines through their mute outer layer. Their anomalous composure shows that they have experienced the monstrosities before. Having just arrived, just as Emily and I had, is not the case.

"So," I begin while retrieving my makeshift chair. I place it in front of them and sit on it. "What are your names?"

The man is the first to look up. His deep brown eyes beckon for me to break down. "Avery." His deep voice booms through the house, but is belittled by the guttural growls of the undead. "My name is Avery."

"Well… _Avery_… are you okay?

He buries his face into his hands and clamps his eyes shut before looking back to me. "Yeah, yeah… sorry. Eatha and I have been on the move for a long time; we have not had time to rest recently. We're tired… very tired."

"It's okay," I respond. "If you'd like, we can discuss this in the morning where we'll all be rested and more at ease."

"That would be nice." His hushed whispers grow more difficult to hear over the noises outside.

Rumbles echo through the skies following a luminous arc stretching to the ground. I turn my attention back to them and I rise. "Then follow me. I have a bed for you to sleep." I gesture for them to follow me down the stairs and trot down the short flight of stairs.

Avery and Eartha follow after me, more eager and lively than they had seemed before. "Thank you," She says. "It means a lot that you are willing to take us in to stay here for now… I'm not sure that we would make it through the night. It was almost dark and we hadn't made a shelter yet."

"I'm glad to… _we _are glad to. We understand the dangers and wouldn't want anybody to get hurt. And to be honest, we were too surprised to see somebody new that we wouldn't dare to let you go."

Once heavy and fatigued, her eyes open wider and her face light up. "Somebody new… you haven't seen anybody else?"

"No we haven't," I speak in a dull tone, but excitement spreads through my body. "Are there more? Have _you _seen more?"

Her lips curl into a pleasant smile. "This will be a long story," She responds. "How about we wait until tomorrow… I think I will fall asleep before I would finish it now."

"Fine," I gripe, "But you cannot leave out any details."

"Deal."

I turn to speak to Avery, but the bed has already taken him as a prisoner. "Goodnight," I say to Eartha. I spin on my heel and return to the bed where Emily sits.

"Wow," She says. "How is this possible? How can there be other people and how did we happen to find them?"

"I don't know… It doesn't feel right. We have been alone this whole time, and now, out of nowhere, two people… two _new_ people… show up."

A lock of her walnut hair falls across her check and her dark eyes lock with my own. Whenever she looks into my eyes, I fall victim to her beauty. "I hope this will be for the best," she whispers.

"I do too, but can we trust them? We have no idea of who they are and what they are like."

"I think we need to trust them."

"I know… but I still need to worry."

Her smile restores some comfort back to me. "Let's go to bed," She says as she pulls a blanket over her body.

I take my place behind her and slide under the blanket alongside her. I wrap my free arm around her waist. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Adam."

Day 155

"We need to, Emily."

"But what if they don't want to talk about themselves? What if they don't want to tell us their story?"

"They'll be fine with it," I explain. "Trust me." Two plate-shaped rocks fill my hands as I crouch onto the ground.

Avery and Eartha appear at the top of the steps and Eartha smiles. "Good morning." Her chirping voice turns Emily's demeanor and the mood of the room into a more cheery one.

My face turns to a smile as I respond. "Good morning," I say. "Come sit down! We have warm food."

Floorboards creak and groan in agony under their feet as they sit onto the ground by my side. Emily joins my other side and sets two more stone plates onto the floor, also piled with venison and hearty vegetables, all dripping with the tender meat's juice. The enigmatic couple both raise the slab of charred venison to their mouths. Elation flows through me as they sink their teeth into the meat and their eyes widen. The thought of making other people happy – of fulfilling other's desires excites me.

"So," Emily chants. "Where do we begin?"

Eartha looks up from her meal and raises an eyebrow, as if questioning what we had meant.

"You know, what is your story?"

She stares at the ground and bites her lower lip, as if deep in thought. "Well," She says, "The first thing that happened to me was when I woke up."

Glances are shared between Emily and I.

Eartha looks up from the floor. "I just woke up in the middle of a golden, grass field. All I could see for miles were the rolling hills of the gilt grass, so I started walking. I walked for more than a day before trees were sprouting from the ground. The occasional tree soon because several trees, which began to squeeze themselves closer until I was no longer in the field." She breaks away and takes another bite of her meat slab.

"Where was Avery?" I ask. "Hadn't you found him yet?"

"No," She answers. "Not for long time yet. I had to travel on my own for quite some time before we found each other." She takes Avery's hand in her own and grasps it. "The first night that I spent in the woods was terrifying. When I was wandering through the peaceful fields, the most dangerous thing I had seen was a young fox, but the woods was teeming with life of all sorts. Hares, birds, elk, boars… I was amazed by all of the wildlife that could flourish in an area while being that close to each other."

Emily jumps into the story. "It can be beautiful, can't it?"

"Very," She agrees. "But when the sun began to set and night finally fell, I saw the truth. At first, it was only the occasional unusual noise. It grew until I saw a figure shrouded in darkness. Naturally, I was excited and called out to whoever it was, but I was rewarded with the head of a dead man turning to me." His voice quavers, but she continues. "Rotten flesh and mangled eyes… it was disgusting. Trees were my only chance of hiding, so I grasped the lowest branch of a nearby tree and pulled myself upwards." Again, she pauses to scoff more of her meal.

"The same thing happened to us… Emily and me," I add. "I just… appeared. I woke up along a nearby shore the same way you had, and I found Emily several weeks later."

Grinning, Avery joins the conversation. "Sounds like a love story."

Rosy hues spread across Emily's cheeks and she hides her face under her hair. "Yeah," I reply. "I guess it is."

"So," Eartha picks up," I spent that night – and the next – sleeping in trees and hoping not to fall out. Fruit and berries accounted for almost my whole diet for a long time, but I eventually found other means to get food, such as meat." Her voice cracks and she hushes.

The chatter of the birds fills the air, and their carefree songs are muffled as they seep into the house. I can see them outside, flying, swooping, and singing without a single worry other than to find their mate and next meal. Their fallen brethren do not harm them – they do not hunt them; they live without the worry of being stalked by the darkness slow-moving and rotted corpses.

"The next day is when I found Avery." Eyes meet and hands squeeze each other throughout the room. "I found him dazed and confused, lying on the ground. Consciousness was lacking in his eyes and he didn't even notice me crouch at his side."

"When she woke me up, I didn't react at first. I was too confused and sleep deprived to even notice what was happening to me, but she pulled me into a cramped dugout under a boulder and stayed awake through the night. Sacrifice is something that I have seen too much of from her."

"After that night, we both hiked in the same direction that I had been before. We tried to get to know each other, but because he had only 'awoken' here the day before, there was not much to discuss other than my few days."

Avery clears his throat. "It's weird; Eartha had awoken countess miles away and many days before I had, but because she traveled in the direction which she chose, and the speed that she walked, she happened to find me. I was hidden behind a bush and almost unconscious, but she found me. It feels like we were almost meant to meet each other."

"It's amazing," I admit. "Maybe you two are perfect for each other; maybe you are meant for each other."

"I hope." His reply is weak. "But I am happy either way."

Pops and cracks come from her back as she stretches. "A few weeks later, we stumbled onto a small camp. We were excited to find somebody new to speak with and possibly live with, but we only stayed for several days. We felt that we needed to continue moving. Farewells were exchanged and we went on our way. Their skills seemed to reside in botany. They had various herbs and foods growing throughout their nearby area. Some healed wounds while other relaxed muscles. In our departure, they gifted us a handful of herbs, but they disappeared far too quickly from our frequent use of them. They also gave us the sword that Avery uses."

"We were sad to leave." His voice is bold in the small room while belittling my own. "They were very kind. I wish I could remember their names, though I do remember they were oddly similar to our own."

"Where ever we went, we were always in search of food. We gathered berries, fruit, and Avery would occasionally catch a small animal for us to eat. Small bushes of edibles were always a welcomed sight." Mud caked fingers grip the edge of Eartha's stone plate as she continues her story. Her meal is forgotten. "Most nights were spent in the trees with a vine tied around our waist and to the tree. Then in the morning, we'd untie ourselves and continue walking."

Avery leans forward from the wall. "Settling down had never crossed our minds. Traveling felt normal, so we just never stopped for more than a day or two."

"We were never bored, though. Games would occupy our minds along with searching for food and a place to sleep. Weeks passed and we continued walking. Then, we smelled smoke. We followed the odd smell and wafting haze and found another man and woman sitting beside a small fire. Again, we shared our stories and left three days later."

"She was different," Avery adds. "Her stomach had swollen with pregnancy, and she had a warming smile that felt out of place from this world. Her name was Elyria and his Argenon. Almost all food that they ate was from hunting, and their clothing was made from pelts. When we left, they gave us a small hog's leg that had been wrapped in cloth."

"Once again, we were on our own. It felt right to travel, though. Countless days passed of eventless travel. For once, we began to grow bored. Each day was the same routine, but one night, we had trouble finding a place to sleep. The sun was falling below the horizon and we were running. Any tree would be adequate, but they were all too difficult to climb. After running beyond exhaustion, we found a rock formation. We crouched to the ground to slide under the formation when Adam tripped over me." Her eyes meet mine. "You may have saved our lives. The opening that we were trying to cram ourselves into was small; I wasn't sure that we would both fit."

Astonished and without words, I stare at them with a lopsided grin. Emily speaks for me from beside the window as she continues to peer into the skies. "It sounds like you have gone through a lot… more than we could have been able."

"Thank you," Avery responds. "And, again, thank you for allowing us to stay here. It really does mean a lot."

My slight grin grows into a warmer smile. "I would hope somebody would do the same for me."

Rosy juice dribbles from Avery's remaining piece of venison as it disappears into his mouth before chewing it. "So," He slurs as he finishes his mouthful of meat. "_That_ is our story."

"You're lucky," I say. "You have been through a lot – almost too much to survive." I intertwine my fingers and press my hands outwards, pulling and stretching the tender and tight muscles through my arms. "It's a beautiful day," I proclaim. Grimacing, I erect myself at Emily's side. "And I do not think that we should be cooped up while gossiping and discussing our feelings."

Playful gibes bring them to their feet, follow by a collective groan. Stiff legged, they shuffle out of sight and into the dark, damp room at the foot of the steps. After several minutes of muffled sentences, rustling clothing and tools, and then silence, they emerge fully dressed. Avery wields a tarnished sword while Eartha grips a knobby bone as a club. We exchange nods and silently venture into the sunny and oddly welcoming wilderness.

Day 171

"Shhhhhh…" I whisper.

Eartha confirms her silence through a nod. She raises her hand with four fingers pointing upward.

_4…3…2…_

_ Jump._

In unison, we spring through the bush's cover with our arms flailing and our voices distorted into animalistic grunts.

"GAHHH!" Avery's voice jumps to a piercing pitch while he stumbles backwards and falls through a low-lying shrub.

Eartha and I collapse onto the ground. We gasp for air between pain- inducing snorts and snickers. Our clothing dirtied from the dirt, we finally stand again after an exhausting chuckle.

"That's not funny."

"We're sorry," I say, still fighting off bouts of laughter.

Avery and I begin walking back toward the house, and Eartha joins at his side. "Did you find whatever was making that weird noise?"

"No," he responds. "But I think I scared it away. I heard something in the bushes… something _big_… scramble away."

Uneven ground, riddled with holes and rocks, cause me to fumble and struggle to maintain balance. "That's good. Maybe we won't need to worry about being attacked by a horde of rabid animals."

My dry joke only reaches Avery. "Maybe," he agrees. "Nonetheless, we should still be wary around rabbits. They are a ferocious breed. Their sharp teeth will rip through a man's throat."

Holes spattered across the ground grasp at our ankles. We only strain harder to avoid them. They soon become fewer and farther between, solidifying into an even and passable surface that allows us to continue without fear of breaking an ankle or becoming food for a more lucky being. I look to the sky and notice the sun is one half finger-widths above the horizon.

Quickening his pace, Avery speaks above the obnoxious roaring of the insects and birds. "We should hurry back to the house. It's becoming too late to safely be outside." He speaks with the confident demeanor that he seemed to lack when he and Eartha had first joined our household.

Cicadas buzz louder and set our hurried pace as time continues to pass. Their incessant symphony of insipid notes seem to call to us to slow our pace and allow ourselves to become lost within the woods.

Eartha and I nod and match his speed. Smoke rising above the trees soon alerts us that we are closer to the house than we had expected and that we would arrive before the emerging of the dead. Appearing through the trees, the house welcomes us. We arrive at the gate while Avery holds it open, allowing me and Eartha to pass through. I open the door and enter the comfort and welcoming embrace of the sheltered house.

Day 171: Night

"I heard it too," whispers Emily.

As we heard before, the disturbing noise reaches out from the trees and into the house. Like a fox, its bark is sharp and distorted, but guttural screams and growls also emanate from the darkness making the depths of the woods.

Sword at hand, Avery stands from his chair with the stance of a fearless warrior. Though, he could easily take the place of one. "Let's scare it off again."

I glace at Emily, who nods. "Okay," I say. "I'll grab another blade." I stride to the back right corner of the room and reach for my own sword.

"No. I don't want… I _can't _let you get hurt," He says.

I turn to see Avery standing in front of Eartha, not allowing her to pass through the door.f

"It's okay," she whispers. "You know me."

Again, the hideous call of the animal stretches from the trees and fills the house, breaking through the droning of the insects. Their insect' flat melody subsides soon enough for me to hear Avery's muffled compliance.

"…will, but be careful." He steps aside and allows Eartha to tag along with me and him in our "adventure" outside.

"Let's go." I jerk my head in the direction of the door and tighten my grip on my sword. "It won't take long to walk a circle around the area surrounding the house. Just a few minutes overall." Swinging the door open and passing through, I gesture for them to follow.

Avery closes the gate after walking through and unsheathes his sword. "This way?" He asks, pointing his index finger left of the gate and into the trees.

Silently, I nod and stride forward. Recently, as they had once before, the zombies have decreased in numbers or have made themselves scarce around the house. For the most part, they have caused no trouble; they haven't attacked us yet.

The cicadas roar as we venture into the trees and begin our perimeter walk. Every several steps, I notice another sound that had been silenced by the insects. First, I notice the call of an owl. Several steps later, I hear another distinct insect. Then, a coyote, a bird, an abnormal clicking of another small animal.

"See anything yet?" Avery yells above the symphony of animals. He and Eartha jog to join my side.

"Nothing of interest," I admit. Stepping over fallen branches and trees that lattice the narrow deer path, I hush my voice and attempt to return to listening to nature's chatter, but something has changed. Something big has changed. All noises, even that from the wind, have ceased. I break pace and stand motionless in the silence.

Avery and Eartha, a couple feet behind me, do the same.

"Adam…" She begins.

I turn around carrying what I assume is an expression of concern. "I noticed it too." I reply.

For a long while, we stand silent and motionless. The unease in my stomach grows until I feel sick. A sudden rustling of leaves to our right breaks the unbearable silence, and somehow welcomes the other noises back into play.

In unison, our heads turn to the noise. For another unbearable minute, we stand with our weapons poised. Sweaty and weary from the nerve-racking anxiety, my grip begins to falter and the blade begins to sway.

_ Snap_

Avery and I spin to the noise, but I am forced to the cold ground by a reeking corpse. The pugnacious zombie towers over me and raises a longsword high above its head. I attempt to shuffle away, but my ankle becomes entangled within a mass of roots and vines.

"RAAAGHH!" Avery releases a battle cry and severs the zombie's arm at the elbow.

The monstrous sword which it wielded drops to the ground with its forearm still attached. It screeches and clasps its wrist, doubling over in the closest expression of pain I have seen from them so far. I untangle myself from the roots and climb to my feet as Avery raises his sword again with the intention of beheading the body, but the zombie parries the blow. It lashes forward with surprising speed and knocks the sword from Avery's hands while pushing him to the ground. It tries to bite at his face, but Avery grabs its throat and prevents it from moving.

"Hold on," I attempt to say, but the tension alters my voice to a muted wheeze. With a yelp, I leap toward my fallen sword and roll to my feet.

"Hurry," he grunts.

With one hand, I swing my sword. I make contact on its leg, making it sprawl to the ground beside Avery. He scrambles away from the twitching body while I walk toward it. Then, with no remorse, I force my foot down on its head, caving its skull inwards with a gelatinous squish. The body lies motionless on the ground.

"Are you okay−" he begins, but stops mid-sentence. His lips stretch into an openmouthed frown. "No… no no no..."

I rush to his side, worried for him. "What's wrong?" I prepare to ask him again, but I follow his empty stare to the ground and see what began to break him down. "No…"

Eartha collapses onto the ground in a crumpled heap. We both rush to her side. Blood spatters her face and soaks her blouse.

She manages to muster a lighthearted smile, just as she usually would. "Hey," She coughs. "I got him."

I choke back tears, but Avery does not try. "I didn't… I…I…"

"It's okay," She says. "You'll be okay. You always were the brighter one." Small crimson specs collect on her lips cheeks while the red blotch on her stomach slowly grows larger.

Avery doubles over and touches his forehead to hers, sobbing. "Wh… what happened?" He whimpers.

"While you…" She whispers. "While you were on the ground…" She shifts her hips and grimaces in pain. "Another came from the trees… but I got him." She touches her hand to her stomach and writhes.

"I'm sorry…" Avery pleads. "Please… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." He buries his face in his bloodstained hand, continuing to sob. "Please don't go…please… I'm so sorry…"

"Shh…" Her voice falters, growing weaker with every second. "It's okay." She smiles again, one final time. Her breathing slows and lessens until she can no longer hold he eyes open. In the depths of the woods on a cold, bitter night, the grace of life leaves the chest of the young maiden.

Day 174

Even with the roar from the wildlife, the air feels uncomfortably silent without Eartha nearby.

"Please, Avery. You don't need to," Emily pleads, but her words are futile. She stands with her hand covering her mouth, fighting back the same tears that I had endured when I stood beside Eartha's fading will.

He opens the door, but pauses in the framework and turns to face us. With his prolonged silence, he even seems to hush the unremitting cries of the wildlife. "I know." He forces a halfhearted smile, but his pain and fatigue shows through. "But living nomadically feels right to me. I survived before…" His voice trails off, muffled by his guilt. "I'll be fine." For a final time, he forces a smile before he exits the house and silently shuts the door, exiting our lives altogether.

Again, as we had always been, Emily and I are alone. There will be no laugher shared among those new faces, and they will no longer aid in our battle for life and for a symbolic prosperity. We are isolated from all human contact once again.

Emily hangs her head in defeat from her battle to keep Avery with us and at our side. "Wow."

Though I still force my eyes not water for another loss, I know that I wear my sorrow on my sleeve. With a heavyhearted sigh, I respond. "I know." I find myself at a loss for words, stunned by the loss of another cherished friendship. With my arms outstretched, I step toward Emily and wrap her with a much needed embrace – one that our hearts both demanded. "'Wow' is right."

Day 197

Passing days turn into weeks as the once close memories of Eartha and Avery begin to fade, becoming another small detail from our blurred past. Even though few days have since passed, it somehow feels to have happened so long ago… that it happened in yet another lifetime.

Gradually, the haunting howls that lead to Eartha's death, and then Avery's withdrawal, became less frequent before disappearing altogether. The zombies seemed to notice its absence also, as their number grew again and their aimless prowls became more regular.

Emily and I squat in the shadows of a stout briar bush. Through the past several hours, we have been moving from tree to tree, stalking a hulking boar from afar. Prey of all sorts often detect their imminent danger moments before their death and will bolt, so we have been slow-moving in our attempt to remain hidden and comfortable, though the latter is no longer an objective of ours. Hours of crawling between trees and crouching behind foliage have bloodied our knees and soured our mood. If not for the almost irrefutable promise of tender pork, we would have returned home hours ago and not have continued to track the boar in hope of aligning a surefire shot.

Again, the roar from the insects grows louder from around us and aids in out attempt to remain unnoticed. Their endless chirping and buzzing has become another consistency in our lives. We no longer notice their hum, but it is always in the back of my mind. It is a lullaby at night that nestles me under my blanket and rocks me into a warm and restful sleep.

Chewing on lush grasses consumes the boars mind, as it pays no attention to its surroundings.

I hold the crude bow in my left hand and draw a single obsidian tipped arrow. Arm outstretched, I pull the string back until it graces the far corner of my mouth. I slow my breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly until I reach a meditative state. I begin to concentrate on the arrows possible paths, but Emily interrupts my thoughts.

She pulls me to the ground and covers my mouth in prevention of my speaking. Her hand cups my mouth. I yank her arm away and scowl at her. Carefully, I pull her head to mind and whisper into her ear. I half expect her reason to be the sight of another dangerous animal, but curiosity lures me to her. "What is it?" I attempt to whisper, but my voice emerges louder than I intended, and she smothers my face again with her muddy hands.

"Shh!" She removes her hand from my mouth and holds her extended index finger to her lip. In a single jerky movement, the motions with her head to the boar.

"I know," I whisper. "I wasn't going to miss."

Her eyes grow wider with the flame of frustration. Again, she jerks her head through the bush in which we hide and to the boar.

Confused, I part the bush and peer through the tree and into the distance. Then, I notice that she had not motioned to the boar and it has no more importance to her, and now to myself. Beyond the boar and between to old trees, unaware that we have spotted it and possibly even our presence, the all too familiar figure hunches over a rotting carcass.

Even though I already understand Emily's intentions, she verbalizes them nonetheless. After reassuring herself that the figure had not yet spotted us, she leans back to me and softly whispers into my ear. "We need to catch him."

I was correct in my suspicions, but I am not excited. We are not likely to catch him and I am not sure of what we would do if we were to somehow catch him. "I don't..." Words begin to flow from my mouth, but my curiosity consumes and changes my actions. "Okay," I respond. "But we'll need to be careful."

She slides to her right in preparation to capture the figure, but begins to move too far into its possible sight.

"Wait," I lunge to my side and grab her arm. "At the least we will need a simple plan for catching it."

"Okay."

"How about you sneak around to its right side and I'll take to the left. When we get close enough, I'll give you a signal and we'll both try to hold him down."

Emily nods and shuffles behind a nearby tree, eager to catch the person who has been eavesdropping on our lives. She is a gentle person, but the fear that she may somehow harm it lingers and steeps in the recesses of my mind.

My feet leave a distinct path in the soil and dried leaves as I crawl across the ground in my attempt to stay well hidden. My knees ache and my hands burn from the nonstop hiding from the boar, and now the mysterious, gaunt figure. Like an aged flower wilting from the sun on a blistering day, the figure hunches over the lifeless carcass. Sprawling across the ground, I slowly inch toward another bush beside the figure. The fear and paranoia of being caught tears through my stomach and swells in my throat, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth. Even though, I persevere and continue sliding forward.

Near the figure, I reach my destination behind the short bushes. The figure continues to crouch over the carcass that I can now identify as being that of a small doe. In the time it has taken me to move to my new hiding spot, the boar noticed us and fled, startling the figure but still not alerting it of our painfully obvious presence after I cursed to myself when I stuck my hand with a thorn.

Emily reaches her hideout behind a broad Locust tree and peers around its trunk to me. She extends her arm with her thumb and index fingers forming an "O", signaling that she is prepared to capture the elderly figure.

Anxious to learn whom – or what – the figure is, I rise to a squatting position and swat the dirt and twigs from my legs, chest, and forearms. A lump forms in my throat and a burning sensation wells in my stomach. I signal back, telling her that I am also ready, even though I feel that I am not.

Together, we inch closer to the figure, still seeking the cover of the trees, until we are almost fifteen feet away.

Fourteen…

Thirteen…

_Snap._

Emily looks to her feet and a look of fear and guilt spreads across her face. A small, broken branch lies under her, snapped by her foot.

The figure freezes, paralyzed by the possible realization that it had been found once again. Suddenly, it spins around, revealing a wide-eyed face with a panicked mien. His gaze falls upon Emily, but he wastes no time with pleasantries. He turns again and sprints away, but he runs in my direction, unaware that I reside there.

I spring from behind the tree and encircle him within my arms, tackling him to the ground. My teeth rattle through my skull and I taste blood in my mouth from the impact. Even though, I am still gracious that we have finally captured the figure – the bony old man.

Day 197: Evening

If "nervous" were to describe how I felt when Eartha and Avery first entered our house, words would be unable to describe my range of emotions now. Fear, excitement, curiosity… all come short of how I truly feel.

Ahead of me and the man, Emily opens the door to the house and allows us to enter ahead of her. I hold his right arm behind his back and grasp his left shoulder with my free hand in prevention of any escape attempts, though I cannot help but feel that he is entirely comfortable and not worried despite his dodgy eyes.

Emily and I had not planned this far ahead and I feel that she is also nervous. The three of us stand in silence, centered in the room, as Emily and I shoot nervous looks between each other. Through our wordless communication of nods, head jerks, and mouthing words, we decide to lead the man downstairs.

Again, Emily waves me over and to follow her down the stars and into my damp and dimly lit room. She grabs a chair and a length of vine that we had stashed away and leads us down into the room. In silence, I sit him in the chair and begin to fasten his hands and feet together and then to the chair itself. The stiff vine works well in binding his limbs. Its small width makes for an easy task of tying tight knot. It would take a cunning man much more nimble than this to begin an escape attempt. Nevertheless, I make the bindings as tight as I am able and weight the chair to the ground by fastening a several large rocks to the legs of the chair. Content with the diligence of my task, I shuffle up the steps and Emily follows after.

For several minutes, we stand in silence. It is clear that Emily is engorged in a silent panic… and I know that I am as well. We have a man, bound with vines, sitting in our house as we are completely unsure of what we should do. Never have we been in a situation akin to this.

I laugh, scared of the man… the zombies… scared of so much that I have suppressed for far too long. I bury my face into my hands and sigh. "Emily…I…" I look back up to her, but her worries guise remains. "What do we do?"

"I'm not sure," She replies, repeating what I feared she would say. "But I think we should start with basic questions." Her eyes move away from my own and drift past the window into the fading light.

"I guess that is the only place to start."

"It is." Her eyes return to mine and her mouth returns to a warm smile. "Don't you think we should untie him?"

"Yes," I nod, "But we still don't know what he can do. We don't even know who he is yet."

"You're right." With her arms folded, she slowly faces side to side. "Do you think you're ready?"

"I am as ready as I can be." I take Emily's hand in my own and lead her to the steps. Our eyes meet and she nods for me to continue.

We step into the low-lit room, but are caught off guard by the man sitting crossed legged on the chair with his arms crossed

"I apologize," He begins, "But my head was awfully itchy and I could not deny it its relief."

Dumbfounded as to how he escaped, I stutter my reply. "That's… it's fine. Sorry for tying you up." Emily stands in silence with a puzzled look across her face.

"Rightly so," He mumbles.

"Who are you?"

He chuckles into his hand and looks up to me and into my eyes for the first time. Bags rest under his eyes and wrinkles are strewn across his pale face. Even with little light in the room, his features are more than noticeable. "Cutting to the chase, I see… very straightforward." He clears his throat and smiles "I prefer to leave my name out of this, but most of those whom I have spoken to often refer to me as the 'Watchman', though never directly to me. I am unsure how I have received the widespread title, but I suppose that it is rather suiting"

"The Watchman?" Emily repeats.

"That is correct, dear." His tone is thoroughly sincere, but when he speaks, I feel that I am being mocked. "I do not care for the title very much, but it has since stuck, so I introduce myself as such." His eyes, soft and blue, harsh and yet caring, return to mine. "What questions do you have?"

A quiet sigh escapes from my mouth. "Many," I respond before turning to Emily. "We should sit on the bed… this may take a long while." She nods and we both shrink onto the edge of the bed. "Why have you been following us? Why have we seen you so many times in the distance?"

He smiles again before responding. "Well," he starts, "This all goes much deeper than I believe you have realized. I will only be able to scratch the surface in my explanation of what has been happening. Even so, I will do as best I can. Do you remember when you first woke up here?"

"Yes." Emily and I respond in unison.

"I was in charge of that," He responds. "And I am now needed to watch over you and the other that you now know of. I was assigned to document how each and every couple on this planet progress."

Emotions flow throughout my mind as I attempt to understand what he says, but there is so much to comprehend. "Why?" I ask. "Why were you told to do this? It does not make much sense."

"I know, and I do not expect most of what I will say to make sense. However, I will still explain myself to my greatest ability. I will start from the beginning." Once more, he clears his throat. "This is not our species home planet," He explains. "Our home planet is nowhere near this one."

"Our home planet? What is our home planet?"

"I'm getting to that, Adam. Our home planet is being destroyed by the very ones who inhabit it. Pollution has eaten away at its atmosphere. Those who venture outdoors without proper protection are burned by the sun and can become deathly ill. Temperatures swell during the days, but drop far below freezing at night. Anything that stays outside through the night, or even daytime, has little chance of survival. Atop the atmospheric complications, the wildlife that has not perished from the severe weather has done so as a result of the vast amounts of pollution littering the land. Nobody was sure of how to reverse the damage that countless generations of fools had caused, so several great minds came together to concoct an alternate plan." He pauses and looks to his feet.

"What did they do?"

Still looking at the ground, he responds. "If one cannot fix their broken toy, why not find a new one?" His gaze returns to me and he chuckles. "They decided that if they were to find another planet where healthy, young persons could thrive, our species would not disappear. We would not go extinct. Seven planets were chosen to suit the needs for a human."

"There are more planets?" Emily questions."

"Yes, indeed. And each planet was different from the next."

I jump back into the conversation. "How were they different?"

"In many ways," He says. "One planet had almost no vegetation. All animals there were carnivorous and hunted each other. Sadly, those placed on the planet did not last very long and the overseer of who was assigned to there also succumbed. It was a shame. He and I were good friends."

"What were the others like?" I ask.

"Another was the opposite. It had no animals on it. The small planet was completely covered in a thick jungle. The inhabitants there are living well, but have not advanced much farther."

"And the others?"

"Beyond that, I have no knowledge." He rolls his neck, releasing a string of pops and crunches. "But I do know that this planet,_ your_ planet, has excelled. The couples here have exceeded what was expected."

"The couples…" I say, "Who are they?"

"For each planet, the couples were hand chosen. A small council, myself included, picked through a vast amount of volunteers and determined which were suitable to be placed on the new planets."

"How many?"

"One hundred males and one hundred females were placed on each planet. But before, countless hours were spent in preparation. First, couples were chosen. Genetics was almost all that went into the pairing… it is almost all that matters. Soon after, they all went through training to be able to survive. Some were trained in botany, some to hunt, and some in both. The couples themselves had complimentary skills to ensure their prolonged survival and that they may flourish."

"If we are here," I say, "Did we volunteer?"

"You most certainly did. In fact, I was the one to have paired you two together."

Emily stands up, visibly confused and irritated. "Then why do we not remember any of that? How come we have no other memory?"

"We could not risk the same mistakes from our home planet being repeated. After the training that was given to the volunteers, all memory was erased with exception of the training. A clean slate was needed, and it was the only way possible."

She sits down with a blank stare. She is visibly shaken, and I feel that I am also. The thought that we once lived another life… one utterly different from this one… it is difficult to come to terms with.

"Do you wish me to stop?" He asks.

"No," I mumble. "Just a few questions more."

"Of course."

"The zombies… why are they here?"

"That may be one of the few questions that I am truly unsure of the correct answer. The bodies were first here because there was no room for the deceased on our home planet. The cause of their reanimation is classified and I am not certified to access the information. I did, however, catch wind of what the cause may have been. I heard gossip that a parasite is the root of the problem, but it only affects human corpses."

So much knowledge can be difficult to take in, especially when all of it is so foreign. Absolutely new ideas and concepts flood my mind. "Thank you," I utter, but the words do no justice to how I feel.

Emily stands from her chair and stretches her arms above her head. "It is getting late. I think we should all go to bed. We can discuss more in the morning."

I nod and turn to the Watchman. "Goodnight… and thank you." He nods back and Emily and I trudge back up the stairs.

"Wow." She says, collapsing onto the bed.

I sit beside her on the bed. With a sigh, she rests her head on my shoulder and wraps her arm around me waist. "I know." I agree. "There is just so much to take in… so many new things."

"So many." She releases my waist and falls backward onto the bed. "Let's go to bed." She smiles at me and her eyes flash.

"I'll stay up. I want to make sure he doesn't leave."

She laughs. "Okay." She pulls herself back up to me and softly kisses me on the cheek. "Have fun."

Day 198

Emily grasps a bowl of stew. "I'll bring it down to him. It's all that we have left, but he must be starving." She struts down the stairs and disappears into the darkness. "Adam! Come here!"

Panicked, I drop my empty bowl and race down the stairs. She stands in the center of the room, completely alone. "Where is he?"

"He's not here… he's gone."

"How is he gone? He can't be gone. I was watching the room all night and he didn't make a noise."

"I don't know…"

My hopes of learning more from the elderly man dash away. "He's just gone." I sigh. "Okay… I guess that is that." I trudge up the stairs and sit onto the bed.

Emily's voice changes to a more serious tone. "Adam… what are we supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like we have a purpose now. I know that you have felt like you have no use, and now here is the proof that we have been searching for… but it feels overwhelming." She buries her head into her hands and releases a sorrowed chuckle. "Everything that he told us… all of this information… I am grateful to know all of it, but now I feel like there is a weight on me… a weight on _us_. I feel that we are being pressured into doing that they… what _humanity_ want us to do." Her head rises from her cupped and callused hands, revealing the face and woman that I have come to love more than anything. "But I know that we need to do it. I know that we need to continue our survival."

Words do not escape my mouth as I open it to speak, only silence. At once, the weight of our situation begins to set in. We have a job to do: to survive, just as we have been doing. Before I can attempt to speak again, Emily looks into my eyes with an expression of both fear and relief.

"I had a dream about the watchman. We were walking though some clearing in the woods… and… and he called me Evelyn."

"Evelyn?"

"Yes… maybe it's my real name? I never truly did remember my name… I just chose 'Emily'."

"I remember." I jump to my feet and pull her along with me. "Well Evelyn, we still need to carry on with our lives," I pause, finding myself at a loss for words, but I scrape my thoughts together. "We must carry on, even with our newfound knowledge." I open the door and pull her outside and through the rickety gate. "So come, Evelyn. We are out of food and there is fruit left to gather.

She takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then on we go." She pulls me forward and into the trees, beginning our new and predetermined lives together.


End file.
